"Why I mean I'm rather small to take care of you all by myself alone, Auntie, though I do my best of course. But now that I've found myself a big, tall Uncle Porges,—under the hedge, you know,—we can take care of you together, can't we, Auntie Anthea?"
But Anthea only hurried on without speaking, whereupon Small Porges continued all unheeding:
"You 'member the other night, Auntie, when you were crying, you said you wished you had some one very big, and strong to take care of you—"
"Oh—Georgy!"
Bellew heartily wished that sunbonnets had never been thought of.
"But you did you know, Auntie, an' so that was why I went out an' found my Uncle Porges for you,—so that he—"
But here, Mistress Anthea, for all her pride and stateliness, catching her gown about her, fairly ran on down the path and never paused until she had reached the cool, dim parlour. Being there, she tossed aside her sunbonnet, and looked at herself in the long, old mirror, and,—though surely no mirror made by man, ever reflected a fairer vision of dark-eyed witchery and loveliness, nevertheless Anthea stamped her foot, and frowned at it.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, and then again, "Oh Georgy!" and covered her burning cheeks.
Meanwhile Big Porges, and Small Porges, walking along hand in hand shook their heads solemnly, wondering much upon the capriciousness of aunts, and the waywardness thereof.
"I wonder why she runned away, Uncle Porges?"