“And you ain’t coming in here,” declared Joel, in a loud, wrathful key. “This is our Little Brown House, so there!” And he doubled up his small fists.
“Joel,” said Mother Pepper.
“Well, you’ve got my baby,” said the boy, whirling round at him, but he turned back to stare at Mother Pepper when she spoke again.
“Come over here,” she beckoned to him. So he shambled around the foot of the four-poster, everybody making way for him, except Phronsie, and she was up on the side of the bed crouched close to the baby under the old quilt and trying to keep back the sobs since Mamsie had reproved her.
“Now, isn’t it nice that your little sister has come to visit us for two days?” said Mrs. Pepper, quite as if everything had all been planned with the boy and his family a long while before, “and you’re going to stay to dinner with us.” Here Mother Pepper looked over at Ben.
“Oh, I’ll help you,” his blue eyes said, though he had to swallow pretty hard to keep the lump in his throat down.
“Hey?” said the boy.
“Yes, I said you were going to stay to dinner with us,” said Mother Pepper, calmly, lifting the baby, old quilt and all, as she spoke. “Dinner’s all ready, isn’t it, Polly? Oh, and, Ben, will you take him? I don’t know what your name is.” And she paused for a reply.
“Ira,” said the boy, in a dazed way.
“Well, Ira, if you’ll go with Ben, he’ll show you where to wash your hands and face and—”