"Oh, mayn't we stay a little longer, mother? It is so nice here!"
"You may stay as long as your aunt cares to keep you, for all I care," cried Mrs. Ormonde, somewhat spitefully.
"Oh, thank you, mother dear—thank you!" throwing his arms round her neck. "I'll be such a good boy when I come back; but it is nice here. Then you have baby, and he does not worry you as much as we do." Katherine thought this a very significant reply.
"There! there!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, disengaging herself from the warm clinging arms. "Go and wash your hands; they are frightfully dirty."
"It's clean dirt, mother. I stopped on the beach to help Tom Damer to build up a sand fort."
"Why did Miss North let you?"
"Oh, I was by myself! I don't want any one to take care of me," said Cecil, proudly.
"Good heavens! do you let the child walk about alone?" cried Mrs. Ormonde, with an air of surprise and indignation.
"Run away to Miss North," said Katherine, and as Cecil left the room she replied: "As Cecil is nine years old, Ada, and a very bright boy, I think he may very well be let to take care of himself. The school is not far, and he cannot learn independence too soon."
"Perhaps so. But of course you know better than I do. You were always more learned, and all that; besides, you are not over anxious, as a mother would be."