"Let's go down to the dock and see them put up the hangar."
"After dinner, children, after dinner," insisted Mrs. Morton. "How long will he stay, Roger?"
"A week or two."
"Then you can surely eat your dinner before rushing off. We're so near the dock you can easily see every flight if you put your minds on it."
Mrs. Emerson smiled at her daughter's words, for they both recalled a time when the Morton children were so eager to see a new teacher who had just come to Rosemont that they almost lived on the sidewalk in front of her house, in order that no passage in or out might escape them.
Seldom was a meal in the Morton dining-room disposed of with such slight attention as this dinner which had to be met and conquered before the reconnaissance could be made. Both Ethels declared that they really did not feel at all like having dessert to-day, and they seemed grieved when Mrs. Morton regretted their lack of interest in it, but failed to take it as a reason for allowing them to leave the table before the rest of the family had finished.
"If we've got to stay we might as well eat it," said Ethel Brown sulkily.
"Mary would like to see that you appreciated her thoughtfulness," said Mrs. Morton gently. "She has taken pains to make caramel custard to-day because she heard you say a little while ago that you 'adored' it."
"Good for Mary. I'm a Selfish Susy," declared Ethel Brown promptly. "I'll eat two to make up for it," she added with a cock of her head.
"O-oh," groaned Roger, "and me planning to take advantage of the dear children's sudden and unusual lack of appetite!"