“Do you think we should leave her here?” asked Harriet, with solemn face but twinkling eyes.
“We shall see how she feels after I have given her something to settle her stomach,” answered Miss Elting gravely.
“No, no, no!” wailed Margery. “Don’t leave me. I’ll go. Let me lie still and rest myself a little first.”
“You thee Buthter, it doethn’t pay to be tho greedy,” admonished Tommy.
“Will you please make her stop?” begged Buster. “I can’t stand it.”
“Tommy!” rebuked Harriet. “Haven’t you any consideration for Margery?”
“Yeth. Of courthe I have. But thhe doethn’t detherve any thympathy.”
“I’m ashamed of you, Tommy, dear. Wait. You, too, will be ill one of these days, then we shall make unpleasant remarks to you,” warned Harriet.
Grace Thompson flushed guiltily.
“That ith too bad, Buthter. I didn’t mean to make you feel worthe. Honetht I didn’t. I hope you will be better pretty thoon.” Tommy kissed her. “There. Ithn’t that better?”