Mrs. Horton came up the path, but Sunny Boy did not look at her. He was studying a crack in the step with great interest.
“Lunch is on the table, Mrs. Horton,” announced Harriet. “Most everything’s spoiled, it’s so late.”
“I’m ever so sorry, Harriet, but it couldn’t be helped this time,” answered Sunny’s mother pleasantly. “Sunny Boy, I want you to go to your room. Harriet will bring you a bowl of bread and milk, and when you have eaten that I’m coming in to talk to you.”
Sunny Boy went slowly to his room. When Harriet brought the bread and milk, he ate it. In perhaps half an hour his mother came into the room, closing the door quietly.
She drew a low rocking chair near the window where Sunny Boy stood looking out, and, sitting down, put her arm about him.
“Now tell Mother all about it,” she said, gently turning Sunny Boy around so that he faced her.
“I wanted to go on the merry-go-round,” explained Sunny Boy, tracing with his forefinger the outline of one of the pink roses that grew on Mother’s pretty white dress.
“Well?”
“So I went to town—” Sunny Boy began on another rose.
“And you didn’t ask me? Did you run away, Sunny Boy?”