“Toddie?”

There was no response, so Mrs. Burton knocked and called with more energy than before, but without reply.  A terrible fear occurred to her! she had heard of children who screamed themselves to death when angry.  Hastily she opened the door, and saw Toddie tear-stained and dirty, lying on the floor, fast asleep.  She stooped over him to be sure that he still breathed, and then the expression on his sweetly parted lips was such that she could not help kissing them.  Then she raised the pathetic, desolate little figure softly in her arms, and the little head dropped upon her shoulder and nestled close to her neck, and one little arm was clasped tightly around her throat, and a soft voice murmured: 

“I wantsh to go a’widin’.”

And just then Mr. Burton entered, and, with a most exasperating affection of ingenuousness and uncertainty, asked: 

“Did you conquer his will, my dear?”

His wife annihilated him with a look, and led the way to the dining-room; meanwhile Toddie awoke, straightened himself, rubbed his eyes, recognized his uncle and exclaimed: 

“Uncle Harry, does you know where we’s goin’ this afternoon?  We’s goin’ a-widin’.”

And Mr. Burton hid in his napkin all of his face that was below his eyes, and his wife wished that his eyes might have been hidden, too, for never in her life had she been so averse to having her own eyes looked into.

The extreme saintliness of both boys during the afternoon’s ride took the sting out of Mrs. Burton’s defeat.  They gabbled to each other about flowers and leaves and birds, and they assumed ownership of the few Summer clouds that were visible, and made sundry exchanges of them with each.  When the dog Jerry, who had surreptitiously followed the carriage and grown weary, was taken in by his master, they even allowed him to lie at their feet without kicking, pinching his ears, or pulling his tail.

As for Mrs. Burton, no right-minded husband could willfully torment his wife upon her birthday, so she soon forgot the humiliation of the morning, and came home with superb spirits and matchless complexion for the little party.  Her guests soon began to arrive, and after the company was assembled Mrs. Burton’s chambermaid ushered in Budge and Toddie, each in spotless attire, and the dog Jerry ushered himself in, and Toddie saw him and made haste to interview him, and the two got inextricably mixed about the legs of a light jardiniere, and it came down with a crash, and then the two were sent into disgrace, which suited them exactly; although there was a difference between them as to whether the dog Jerry should seek and enjoy the seclusion upon which his heart was evidently intent.

Then Budge retired with a face full of fatherly solicitude, and Mrs. Burton was enabled to devote herself to the friends to whom she had not previously been able to address a single consecutive sentence.