“Mary,” said Mrs. Gray,—she thought her little daughter was old enough now to be called by her true name, so she never used the baby name of Flaxie Frizzle,—“Mary, I do not wish you to play any more with this little girl till I have seen her.”
“No’m.”
“Have you anything else to tell me?”
“I don’ know. Well, yes. Well, I—I—I am so sorry I ran away from my party, mamma. Ever so long ago. I s’pect Auntie Prim told of that too?” said Flaxie, twisting herself into odd shapes, for the thought of that unfortunate affair filled her with shame.
“Yes, Mary, she did.”
“Well, I felt so sorry, mamma. And Milly ‘n’ I, we didn’t get but one tart and one piece o’ cake; for auntie had a party with ’em her own self. Do you think ’twas right when she made ’em for Milly and me?”
Here Flaxie’s eyes flashed.
“My child, we are talking of you now, not Auntie Prim.”
“Yes’m, I know it, and I’m real sorry I’m so naughty; but Auntie Prim makes me naughty.”