I wonder, if it's more
indignant, or pleased, at being dragged out into the light of day for a
parcel of young folks?"
"'Butchered to make a Roman Holiday'?" Shirley laughed.
At that moment Patience appeared, rather breathless--but not half as
much so as Miranda, who had been drawn into service, and now appeared
also--"You ain't half buttoned up behind, Patience!" she protested,
"and your hair ribbon's not tied fit to be seen.--My sakes, to think of
anyone ever having named that young one _Patience_!"
"I'll overhaul her, Miranda," Pauline comforted her. "Come here,
Patience."
"Please, I am to sit up in front with you, ain't I, Tom?" Patience
urged. "You and I always get on so beautifully together, you know."
Tom relaxed a second time. "I don't see how I can refuse after that,"
and the over-hauling process being completed, Patience climbed up to
the high front seat, where she beamed down on the rest with such a look
of joyful content that they could only smile back in response.
From the doorway, came a warning voice. "Not too far, Tom, for Hilary;
and remember, Patience, what you have promised me."
"All right, Mrs. Shaw," Tom assured her, and Patience nodded her head
assentingly.
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