“Yes; even us, ” repeated her brother. “And how are we arranged for? Left in charge of Larkin! Old Loony Larkin!” “Hush, King, that’s disrespectful, ” said Marjorie, laughing in spite of herself. “Well, she is old; and she is Larkin; and I think she’s loony!” “But you mustn’t say so, if you do, ” persisted Marjorie. “Indeed you mustn’t, ” said Mrs. Maynard, coming into the living room where the three children were holding an indignation meeting. “I’m ashamed of you, King!” “Aw, Mother, forgive me this once, and I won’t ever say such a thing again till next time.” Kingdon sidled up to his mother, and nestled his cheek against hers in such a cajoling way, that Mrs. Maynard smiled, and forbore further reproof just then. “But, dearies all, ” she went on, “you mustn’t take such an attitude toward Miss Larkin; she’s good and kind and will look after you nicely till I return.” “Larkin, Larkin, All the time a-barkin’, ” chanted King, pinching his mother’s lips together, so she couldn’t reprimand him …
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