“Well, yes, I do,” she admitted, smoothing his hair. “Because, you see, dear, I think you are sorry and will not do it again. Being sorry makes all the difference in the world.”
Sunny Boy sat up, and this time he found he could look right into Mother’s deep brown eyes.
“I’m sorry—honest,” he told the little boy he saw there.
“All right, I believe you,” Mother assured him promptly. “I think you will have to stay here in your room till supper time to help you remember not to be cross again, and after that we’ll forget about it. Now tell Mother what you did over in town.”
Sunny Boy told her all about his trip, from the jitney and merry-go-round rides to his experience at the soda fountain where kind Mrs. Raymond had paid for his soda-water.
“An’ wasn’t it funny Curly was her dog?” he wound up.
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Mother. “I’m glad the dog found his mistress. There, I hear the clock striking three. I must go to the station to meet Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson.”
“I s’pect they’ll wonder where I am,” said Sunny Boy sadly.
“They probably will,” sighed Mother. “Never mind, Son, just remember you are never going to run away again.”
And Sunny Boy did remember.