CHAPTER XVIII THE ARRIVAL OF THE PONIES
There was nothing soft about the way they were brought up, and they had had some good punishments lately for leaving the table without permission, and for noise-making at improper times.
Mrs. Devering gazed at them, and I thought to myself that I had never seen a prouder or more loving mother-look on a woman's face.
Finally she said in a low voice, "I forgive you—the provocation was great, all except Sojer. Come here, my boy."
The other children dashed away, and Sojer going fearlessly to her pressed close against her shoulder as she sat at the head of the table.
"My darling," she said, "can't you remember to lower your voice when you are conversing?"
"Mother!" he exclaimed with another shout, "I didn't know you had two dimples. There's a little weeny one 'way over here on your left cheek."
"Whisper that sentence," she said, holding up a finger as if he were a little dog.
Sojer's eyes twinkled and he began in husky tones,