"They need a strong hand—a stern and uncompromising spirit to govern them—that's what they need!" declared the militant aunt.
"But Dora, they are good girls and make me no trouble at all."
"Of course they make you no trouble. You let them do exactly as they wish."
"No, no!" urged Mr. Lockwood, hastily. "They don't always do as they wish. Sometimes we haven't the money to let them do with. I've heard Mrs. Betsey say so. And—and—why, there is one of them who likes three lumps of sugar in her coffee; but I always reprove her for it. That is extravagance."
"Huh!" sniffed Aunt Dora.
"Otherwise they are no trouble to me at all," said Mr. Lockwood, briskly. "They are not, I assure you. We live a very quiet and peaceful life here."
"Yah!" exclaimed his sister. "That is all you want—peace."
"I admit it—I admit it," returned her brother. "I am naturally retiring and of a peaceful disposition, Dora."
"You're a natural born fool, Lemuel!" declared his sister, so sharply that the twins, who were inadvertently listening at the door, hesitating to go in, fairly jumped. "I want to tell you right now that you are a disgrace to manhood! You've never amounted to a row of beans since you were out of pinafores. If your little property wasn't tied up hard and fast so that you could only use the income of it, you would have frittered it all away long ago, and left these children penniless. You've never made a dollar in your life, Lemuel Lockwood!"
"But—but there has never been any real necessity for me to make money," stammered the horticulturist. "And one of these days we are going to have a plenty. I've got a melon started here on the bench, Dora——"