“Darlings,” she said, putting an arm around each boy, “Aunt Alice must be away this afternoon for an hour or two. I wonder who will take care of the house for her?”
“I want to go wif you,” said Toddie, with a kiss.
“I can’t take you, dear,” said the lady, after returning Toddie’s salute. “The walk will be too long; but auntie will come back to her dear little Toddie as soon as she can.”
“Oh, you’re goin’ to walk to where you’ goin’, are you?” said Toddie, wriggling from his aunt’s arm. “Den I wouldn’t go wif you for noffin’ in the wyld.”
The pressure of Mrs. Burton’s arm relaxed, but she did not forget her duty.
“Listen, boys,” said she. “Don’t you like to see houses neatly and properly arranged, like your mamma’s and mine?”
“I do!” said Budge. “I always think heaven must be that way, with parlors an’ pictures an’ books an’ a piano. Only they don’t ever have to sweep in heaven, do they, ’cause there ain’t no dirt there. But I wonder what the Lord does to make the little angels happy when they want to make dirt-pies, and can’t?”
“Aunt Alice will have to explain that to you when she comes back, Budge. But little angels never want to make mud-pies.”
“Why, papa says people’s spirits don’t change when they die,” said Budge. “So how can little boy angels help it?”
Mrs. Burton silently vowed that at a more convenient season she would deliver a course of systematic theology which should correct her brother-in-law’s loose teachings. At present, however, the sun was hurrying toward Asia, and she had made but little progress in securing insurance against accident to household goods.