Mrs. Prim smiled a very small smile, but it was behind her lips, where the children could not see it.
“Well, Mary, perhaps you have been as good as could reasonably be expected under the circumstances.”
Poor little Milly couldn’t help feeling as if she were the “circumstances,” or why did those spectacles shine straight upon her?
“And I suppose you must have the party.”
Flaxie gave a scream of delight, and caught Mrs. Prim round the waist.
“O you darling, darling auntie!”
“There, there; don’t smother me, or I can’t cook your supper. What do you want?”
“Oh, may I have what I want? Pinnuts and peaches, and candy and preserves, and jelly and choclids, and oranges and everything?”
“No, you absurd child, not everything; but whatever is most suitable and proper,—if you will only run away out of my sight, you and Milly. But go first and tell your grandmother to send Dora to me.”
“Grammy’s quilting a quilt, and Dodo’s quilting a quilt; but I’ll tell ’em to come.”