There was no answer.
“Well, have you been naughty?” Mammy persisted.
Tommy wriggled down from the chair. “I dunno, and don’t ee bother I no more, Mammy, ask Miss Margaret what I been,” and he ran from the house, unmindful of the rain, to seek the soothing presence of his never-failing admirer, Aunt Keziah Kate.
After tea Mammy had a long and serious talk with the ladies. “’Underds of times,” she admitted, she threatened Tommy, and nothing happened. “When there’s visitors here I feel I must go the easiest way,” she explained.
“He’s too good to be spoiled,” urged Miss Margaret.
“We don’t want to spoil him, Miss, his daddy an’ me, and we must try and be firmer with him, for he do indeed be gettin’ out of hand.”
At six o’clock Miss Margaret heard Tommy go into the bedroom, and soon afterwards there was Mrs. Tregennis’s heavier step on the stairs. There was a rustle of bed clothes and a creaking of springs, and by these signs Miss Margaret knew that Tommy was in bed.
“Tommy,” said Mrs. Tregennis, “do you know why your Mammy do be feelin’ very sad?”
“No Mammy,” was the reply, “but shall us talk a bit about you, when ee was just a very little girl.”