“And I don’t want you to, so you can’t,” said Mrs. Burton in a tone which would reduce any reasonable person to hopelessness. But Toddie, in spite of manifest astonishment, remarked:
“Wantsh to go a-widin’.”
“Now the fight is on,” murmured Mr. Burton to himself. Then he arose hastily from the table and said:
“I think I’ll try to catch the earlier train, my dear, as I am coming back so soon.”
Mrs. Burton arose to bid her husband good-by, and was kissed with more than usual tenderness, and then held at arm’ length, while manly eyes looked into her own with an expression which she found untranslatable—for two hours, at least. Mrs. Burton saw her husband fairly on his way, and then she returned to the dining-room, led Toddie into the parlor, took him on her lap, wound her arms tenderly about him, and said:
“Toddie, dear, listen carefully to what Aunt Alice tells you. There are some reasons why you boys should not go with us to-day, and Aunt Alice means what she says when she tells you you can’t go with us. If you were to ask a hundred times it would not make the slightest bit of difference. You cannot go, and you must stop thinking about it.”
Toddie listened intelligently from beginning to end, and replied:
“But I wantsh to go.”
“And you can’t. That ends the matter.”
“No, it don’t,” said Toddie; “not a single bittie. I wantsh to go badder dan ever.”