Mr. Burton hastened to extend to his wife some mute sympathy.
“They’re going to-day,” said Mrs. Burton, finding something in her eyes that required the attention of her kerchief—“just as I’ve learned what I should be to them! They’re angels, in spite of their pranks, and it’s always so with angels’s visits; one never discovers what they are until they spread their wings to depart.”
“This particular pair of angels can be borrowed for an extra day, I suppose, if you desire it!” suggested Mr. Burton.
“I declare,” said Mrs. Burton, “that’s a brilliant idea! I’ll go tell Helen that I don’t think she’s yet fit to have them back again.”
“And I,” said Mr. Burton, preparing to go to the city, “will try to persuade Tom into the same belief, though I know he’ll look like a man being led to execution.”
The Burtons left the house together a few minutes later, and the boys returned soon after. Being unable to find their aunt, they descended to the kitchen, and made a formal demand upon the cook for saucers, spoons, sugar and cream.
“An’ fhot are yees up to now?” asked Bridget.
“You’ll see, after you give us the things,” said Budge.
“Deysh the reddesht, biggesht ones I ever saw anywheresh,” Toddie exclaimed.
“I don’t want ye to be takin’ the things way off to nobody but the dhivil knows where,” said Bridget. “Fhot if yees should lose one of the shpoons an’ the misthress ’ud think I sthole it?”