Felicity, in a tone which implied that what the Carlisle people thought was far more important. "And I don't believe that Peter has got a decent stocking to his name. What will you feel like if he goes to church with the skin of his legs showing through the holes, Miss Story Girl?"
"I'm not a bit afraid," said the Story Girl staunchly. "Peter knows better than that."
"Well, all I hope is that he'll wash behind his ears," said Felicity resignedly.
"How is Pat to-day?" asked Cecily, by way of changing the conversation.
"Pat isn't a bit better. He just mopes about the kitchen," said the Story Girl anxiously. "I went out to the barn and I saw a mouse. I had a stick in my hand and I fetched a swipe at it—so. I killed it stone dead. Then I took it in to Paddy. Will you believe it? He wouldn't even look at it. I'm so worried. Uncle Roger says he needs a dose of physic. But how is he to be made take it, that's the question. I mixed a powder in some milk and tried to pour it down his throat while Peter held him. Just look at the scratches I got! And the milk went everywhere except down Pat's throat."
"Wouldn't it be awful if—if anything happened to Pat?" whispered Cecily.
"Well, we could have a jolly funeral, you know," said Dan.
We looked at him in such horror that Dan hastened to apologize.
41
