"Yes," says Marjorie; "only—only—oh, Dud, I'm going to do it!" And with that she makes a rush, lets out a giggle or two, grabs Old Hickory in a perfectly good hug, and kisses him twice on his bald spot.
He don't even have a chance to struggle, and before he can get out a word it's all over and she has backed off, givin' him the full benefit of one of them twisty smiles. I was lookin' for him to blow up for fair at that. He don't though.
"There, there!" says he. "Not in the least necessary, you know. But if it was something you had to get out of your system, all right. So you've been visiting, eh? Now, what?"
"Why, Marjorie's going back to her school, Sir," says Dudley, "and I to college."
"Before the holidays are over?" says Mr. Ellins.
"Oh, we don't mind," says Marjorie. "We don't want to go home and open up the house; for we should miss Mother so much."
"Suppose you finish out your vacation with us, then?" suggests Old Hickory.
"Oh, thank you, Sir," says Dudley; "but we——"
"Mother wrote us, you see," breaks in Marjorie, "that we mustn't think of bothering you another bit."
"Who says you're a bother?" he demands. "At this time of year I like to have young folks around—if they're the right kind."