Madeline moved a pace or two, and then stopped. Her chin was drawn down, her brow contracted, her lips pouting.
“Go, go, dear! Mother is willing.” Mrs. Dainty saw her error, and now, hoping to retrieve it, spoke with pleasant animation.
Madeline looked up at her mother, as if in doubt of her sincerity. Mrs. Dainty smiled tenderly, and said, in a loving voice,—
“Kiss me first, dear.”
Madeline’s face brightened. The kiss was given, and then she went away with light footsteps.
“I’m going to wait too,” said George, sturdily, as he pushed back his chair. “I’d rather eat with Miss Harper than with anybody in this house.”
And, before his father could interfere to stop him, Young America was out of the dining-room.
“I don’t like that.” Mrs. Dainty looked annoyed.
“Children are all democrats,” said Uncle John.
“I don’t wish mine to be democrats,” answered Mrs. Dainty, curtly.