"I hope it will this time, but things are so much easier in a book than out of it. Perhaps the children were not just like our Janet and Willy."
"They were a great deal worse. Our children are perfect angels compared to them."
"Here they come now, speaking of angels," announced Cynthia, as the tramp of small but determined feet was heard on the stairs and the door burst open.
"Dear me, you don't mean to say you are back!" exclaimed Edith. "I thought you were going to play out-of-doors all the morning."
"We're tired of it, and we're terrible hungry."
"An' we want sumpun to do."
"If this isn't the most provoking thing!" cried Edith, wrathfully, emerging from the closet. "I thought you were well out of the way, and here I am in the midst of house-cleaning! You are the most provoking children—don't touch that!"
For Janet had seized upon a box and was investigating its contents.
"Go straight out of this room, and don't come near me till it is done."
"We won't go!" they roared in chorus; "we're going to stay and have some fun."