"Blessings on the blessed children!" said aunt Madge, one morning soon after this. "So we little folks are going out to spend the day, are we?"
"Yes'm," replied Grace, "all but Horace."
"Yes," said Prudy, dancing in high glee, "grandma wants me to go, and I'm goin'. I mean to do every single thing grandma wants me to."
"I wish you could go with us, aunt Madge," said Grace, almost pouting; "we don't have half so good times with aunt Louise."
"No, we don't," cried Prudy; "she wants us to 'take care' all the time. She don't love little girls when she has 'the nervous.'"
Almost while they were talking, their aunt Louise came into the room, looking prettier than ever in her new pink dress. She was a very young lady, hardly fifteen years old.
"Come, Prudy," said she, smiling, "please run up stairs and get my parasol—there's a darling."
But Prudy was picking a pebble out of her shoe, and did not start at once.
"Ah!" said aunt Louise, drawing on her gloves, "I see Prudy isn't going to mind me."
"Well, don't you see me getting up out of my chair?" said Prudy. "There now, don't you see me got clear to the door?"