"Why, indeed? There's no accounting for tastes. Then, 'love me, love my dog.' But I say, Edith, it rather pays to make you mad. You grow two inches visibly, while I shrink in proportion. It is just as if you had some of that cake in your pocket, that Alice came across in Wonderland, don't you know?"
"Oh, Neal, tell us about it!" cried Janet, dropping her dolls and flinging herself on the end of the hammock. "I just love your stories."
"It is more than can be said of your big sister, Janet, my child. Bob and I are in disgrace."
"Bob's no good," said Willy; "he won't play."
"His coat is too thick," remarked Neal. "Bob wishes it were the fashion to wear short hair in summer. I say, Edith, where are you going?" for she had put up her work.
"I think I shall take the buggy and go down to see Gertrude Morgan. I'm tired of it here."
"Thank you," said Neal, meekly.
"Children, you can stay here," she continued. "I sha'n't be gone more than an hour or two."
The children did not object. They counted upon having Neal for a companion, and he was all-sufficient.
But when the old buggy rounded the corner, and, instead of coming up to the house, rattled down the drive on the farther side of the "heater-piece," Neal sprang out of the hammock with a bounce and ran across the grass. Bob wanted to follow, but he ordered him back. He reached the fork in the avenue before Edith did.