“Isabelle Bryce!” gasped her mother.
“We’re playing barbarian,” said Isabelle, coolly; “Miss Wilder told me about them.”
“Miss Wilder!” protested Wally.
“But I didn’t—I mean—I——”
“You said they lived in trees and never wore clothes.”
The children began to titter.
“This is your affair, I believe, Wally,” remarked Mrs. Bryce, and she walked in a leisurely way into the house.
“Oh, I say,” he called after her; then: “Get her indoors, will you? Who’s the boy?”
“The gardener’s child, Patsy.”
“Where are your clothes?” he demanded.