You'll not be bothered with me much longer," remarked the delinquent nonchalantly, her eyes still upon the photograph Gracie was holding.
"What's that ?" asked Mrs.Scrimp, catching sight of it for the first time.
"Our new mamma," the children answered in a breath, Gracie's tones full of gentle joyousness, Lulu's of a sort of defiant exultation, especially as she added, "Papa's coming next week to take us away to live at home with him." "On shipboard ?" "No, in a cottage by the sea." "Humph! he'll soon sail away again and leave you with your step-mother, just as I told you." "Well, I don't care, she looks enough kinder and sweeter than you do." "Indeed! I pity her, poor young thing!" sighed Mrs.Scrimp, scanning the photograph with keen curiosity.

"She's very young--a mere child I should say--and to think of the trouble she'll have with you and Max!" "We're not going to be a trouble to her," said Lulu, "we're never a trouble to people that treat us decently." "I think your father might have given me an earlier warning of these changes," grumbled Mrs.Scrimp.

"I'll have to work myself sick to get you two ready in time." "Oh, no, Aunt Beulah, you needn't," said little Gracie, "the new mamma can get somebody to make our clothes for us.

Papa will pay for it." "Of course he will," said Lulu.

"You needn't do anything but have those we have now all washed and ironed and packed up ready to go." "That's all you know about it!" returned Mrs.Scrimp sharply.