"You
have taken your time, Paul Shaw!" the child said, climbing in beside
her sister.
"Fanny's time, you mean!"
"It hasn't come yet!" Patience said protestingly. "I went for the mail
myself this afternoon, so I know!"
"Oh, well, perhaps it will to-morrow," Pauline answered, with so little
of real concern in her voice, that Patience wondered. "Suppose you
take Fanny on to the barn. Mother's home, isn't she?"
Patience glanced at her sharply. "You've got something--particular--to
tell mother! O Paul, please wait 'til I come. Is it about--"
"You're getting to look more like an interrogation point every day,
Impatience!" Pauline told her, getting down from the gig.
Patience sniffed. "If nobody ever asked questions, nobody'd ever know
anything!" she declared.
"Is mother home?" Pauline asked again.
"Who's asking things now!" Patience drew the reins up tightly and
bouncing up and down on the carriage seat, called sharply--"Hi yi! Hi
yi!"
It was the one method that never failed to rouse Fanny's indignation,
producing, for the moment, the desired effect; still, as Pauline said,
it was hardly a proceeding that Hilary or she could adopt, or, least of
all, their father.
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