Desire put on her hat. It was because she was always willing to give Aunt Caroline her way in small matters that she invariably took her own in anything that counted. It is a simple recipe and recommended to anyone with Aunts....
"There's Potter's wood!" said Benis, who had been somewhat silent.
Desire looked out eagerly. But Potter's wood was just like any other wood and—
"There's Sadler's Pond!" said John.
"They've cut down the old elm!" Aunt Caroline voiced deep displeasure.
"And put up a bill-board," said Benis.
Desire felt a trifle lonely. These people, so close to her and yet so far away, were going home.
"Oh, how I wish you weren't stopping off," said the rancher's wife, an actual tear on her flushed cheek. "You've been so kind, Mrs. Spence. And anyone more understanding with children I never saw. When you've got a boy like my Sandy for your own—"
"By jove!" exclaimed Benis. "They're starting to cut down Miller's hill at last."
Aunt Caroline rose flutteringly. "There is the water-tank," she announced in an agitated voice. "Desire, where is your parasol? My dear, don't kiss that child again, it's sticky. WHERE is my hand-bag? John, do you see your car?"