"We won't fret," said Percy, eagerly. "Oh, we won't, Mamma, ever again."
"No," said Van, "we won't, truly, Mamma."
While this was going on in Mrs. Whitney's room, there was a small clamor raised downstairs. Where in the world were the two boys just come home from school?
"I know," declared Alexia, who had recovered her spirits. "Polly," and she drew her off into the library, "they went upstairs with Mrs. Whitney," she said with a loud whisper in her ear.
"I heard you," cried little Dick, creeping in back of the two girls, "and I shall just go up to Mamma's room," and he began to skip off joyously.
"Oh, no, you mustn't," cried Alexia, deserting Polly to race after him and seize his blouse. "The very idea—Polly, come and help me hold this dreadful boy."
"I shall go up and see my Mamma," said Dick, in a small fury, and pulling and kicking violently. "She is my very own Mamma, and I shall see her."
"But you mustn't," said Alexia, very red in the face. "O dear me, why did I speak! Polly, do help me," for just then Phronsie had run in between the two girls, and before any one had a chance to hardly breathe, a dreadful sound struck their ears.
"There, see what you have done!" exclaimed little Dick, in a wrathful key. Alexia's fingers fell away, and he held up a dangling end of lace, all frayed and ragged. "You've torn my blouse, and I shall see my Mamma." With that he set out on a run for the stairs.