"I know she'll kiss me; she never _will_ let a fellow alone," growled
Toady, scowling darkly.

The garden gate clashed, dust flew from the door-mat, a heavy step
echoed in the hall, an imperious voice called "Sophy!" and Aunt Kipp
entered with a flourish of trumpets, for Toady blew a blast through
his fingers which made the bows totter on her bonnet.

"My dear aunt, I'm very glad to see you," murmured Mrs. Snow,
advancing with a smile of welcome; for though as weak as water gruel,
she was as kind-hearted a little woman as ever lived.

"What a fib that was!" said Toady, _sotto voce_.

"We were just saying we were afraid you wouldn't"--began Mary, when a
warning, "Mind now, Polly," caused her to stop short and busy herself
with the newcomer's bag and umbrella.

"I changed my mind. Theodore, come and kiss me," answered Aunt Kipp,
briefly.

"Yes'm," was the plaintive reply, and, closing his eyes, Toady awaited
his fate with fortitude.

But the dreaded salute did not come, for Aunt Kipp exclaimed in
alarm,--

"Mercy on us! has the boy got the plague?"

"No'm, it's paint, and dirt, and glue, and it _won't_ come off," said