“I meant to say I.”
“I wish,” growled David severely, “that you would break yourself, Johnnie, of the growing habit of seeking to involve me in your kindergarten duties and difficulties. I have troubles of my own.”
“Well, anyhow,” remarked John, as he picked up a book and pulled his cap on, “I’m glad that I’d decided to try him again before the letter came. It eases my conscience.”
“Your what?” gasped David.
“Conscience. Wait until you get into the foster-mother business, Davy, and you’ll develop one yourself. And besides, there’s not only the boy to think of, but—Margaret.”
“Who’s Margaret?” asked David suspiciously.
“That, my friend,” replied John amiably, as he passed out, “is none of your business.”