“Come along, children—dinner is ready at last!”
Loveday sprang at once to her feet. “Come along, Adolphus,” she said naughtily. If Aaron had but laughed, and taken no notice of her teasing, Loveday would probably have found no fun in it, and have stopped very soon, but he was very cross indeed, and sulked over his dinner, and the afternoon might have been spoilt if Bessie had not been so good-tempered and kind.
“We are going to change our names,” said Loveday, beginning her teasing again as soon as they had begun to eat.
“Oh!” said Bessie, “and what are you to be called now?”
“Well, Aaron is to be called Adolphus, only he doesn’t seem to like it, and I am called Jane, and you—let me see, I’ll call you—” Loveday thought and thought, but could not think of anything that quite pleased her.
“Well, I don’t mind what it is,” said Bessie, “as long as you don’t call me ‘Bread and Cheese,’ and eat me.” It was an old saying, but a new one to the children, and they both laughed so much that Aaron forgot his sulks, and Loveday her teasing.
“I will call you Mother Dutch Cheese,” laughed Aaron.
“Then there won’t be much of me left by to-morrow,” said Bessie, pretending to look frightened.
“I will call you—” began Loveday, speaking very slowly, for she was trying all the time to think of something very funny to say.
“I wonder,” said Bessie, “if, instead of thinking what you shall call me, you would like to pay a call for me this afternoon?”