"Well, that was my place," said Joel, loudly, and not yielding an inch.
"Joel!" said Mrs. Fisher.
"It was my place," he grumbled. But he hung his head and wouldn't look up into Mamsie's face.
"It's my very own purse," cried Phronsie, in a joyful little key, "and I'm going to buy things, I am. See, Mamsie!" She held it up before Mrs. Fisher, and patted it lovingly, while she crowded in worse than ever.
"Yes, I see," said Mrs. Fisher, smiling down into her face, but there was no smile for Joel, and looking up he caught her black eyes resting on him in a way he didn't like.
"You may have it, Phron!" he exclaimed, tumbling back against David suddenly, who was nearly knocked over by his sudden rebound. "I'd just as lief you would. Here, get in next to Mamsie."
"And I'm going to buy you something, Mamsie," said Phronsie, standing on her tiptoes to whisper confidentially into Mother Fisher's ear.
"You are, dear?" Mrs. Fisher leaned over to catch the whisper, but not before she sent a smile over to Joel that seemed to drop right down into the farthest corner of his heart. "Now Mother'll like that very much indeed."
"And you must be s'prised," said Phronsie, bobbing her head in its big, fur-trimmed bonnet, and fastening a grave look of great importance on Mrs. Fisher's face.
"Hoh—hoh!" began Joel, who had recovered his composure. Then he thought, and stopped. And again Mother Fisher smiled at him.