“Sailor’s knot, please; keeps better so,” said Thorny, holding up his chin to have a blue silk scarf tied to suit him, for he was already beginning to be something of a dandy.
“You ought to wear red till you get more color, dear,” and his sister rubbed her blooming cheek against his pale one as if to lend him some of her own roses.
“Men don’t care how they look,” said Thorny, squirming out of her hold, for he hated to be “cuddled” before people.
“Oh, don’t they; here’s a vain boy who brushes his hair a dozen times a day, and quiddles over his collar till he is so tired he can hardly stand,” laughed Miss Celia, with a little tweak of the ear.
“I should like to know what this is for?” demanded Thorny, in a dignified tone, presenting a black tie.
“For my other boy. He is going to church with me,” and Miss Celia tied a second knot for this young gentleman, with a smile that seemed to brighten up even the rusty hat-band.
“Well, I like that—” began Thorny, in a tone that contradicted his words.
A look from his sister reminded him of what she had told him half an hour ago, and he stopped short, understanding now why she was “extra good to the little tramp.”
“So do I, for you are of no use as a driver yet, and I don’t like to fasten Lita when I have my best gloves on,” said Miss Celia, in a tone that rather nettled Master Thorny.
“Is Ben going to black my boots before he goes?” with a glance at the new shoes which caused them to creak uneasily.