"Do you see?" demanded Miss Sophronia, in tragic tone.
"Yes, Cousin Sophronia, I see. I can't think—but I'll run up at once and see what it means, and bring the child down. I—" Margaret waited to say no more, but flew up-stairs, only pausing to cast a hasty glance into Susan D.'s room, the door of which stood open. The room was empty; so, when she reached the top of the stairs, was the nursery. She entered a small room that was used as a storeroom; its one window looked directly on the roof, and this window stood wide open. Running to look out, Margaret saw Susan D., seated astride of a gable, dangling her legs as aforesaid, and apparently enjoying herself immensely. The whistle stopped when she saw her cousin, and the cheerful look gave place to one of sullenness.
"Susan, my dear child, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for my other stocking," replied the child.
"Your stocking?"
"Yes. I dropped it out of the window, and I came up here to look for it."
"She thought she could see better!" explained Basil, appearing suddenly from behind the chimney. "I—good morning, Cousin Margaret. I slept very well, thank you."
"So did I!" chimed in Susan D., with suspicious readiness. "I slept very well. Good morning, Cousin Margaret, thank you!"
"That isn't right," said Basil, as Margaret looked in bewilderment from one to the other; "you are such a stupid, Susan D. You see," he added, turning to Margaret, "I've been telling her that she's got to have better manners, and speak when she's spoken to; and, if she behaves pretty well, she's going to get some hard stamps she wants; and if she doesn't—"
"I am," said Susan D. "Amn't I, Cousin Margaret?"