"O, auntie," said Susy, "did you think we were going to be naughty?"
"No, you'll mean to be good, I dare say," answered aunt Louise, speaking more kindly,—"if you don't forget it. And you'll be a nice, dear little girl, won't you, Prudy?"
"I don't know," said Prudy, coolly.
"Don't know? Why, do you think I should have taken you visiting if I hadn't supposed you'd try to be good?"
"Well, I didn't say I wouldn't," said Prudy, with some dignity, "I said 'I don't know,' and when I say that, I mean 'yes.'"
"Well, I'm sure I hope you'll do the very best you can," sighed aunt Louise, "and not make any body crazy."
By this time they had gone up the nice gravel walk, and aunt Martha had come to the door, opening her arms as if she wanted to embrace them all at once.
"Dear little souls," said she, "come right into the house, and let me take off your things. I've been looking for you these two hours. This is my little nephew, Lonnie Adams.—Shake hands with the little girls, my dear."
Lonnie was a fair-haired, sickly little boy, seven years old. The children very soon felt at ease with him.
It was so pleasant in aunt Martha's shaded parlor, and the children took such delight in looking at the books and pictures, that they were all sorry when aunt Louise "got nervous," and thought it was time they went off somewhere to play.