The threat was effectual.  Never did we mention that unholy pudding.  But the Story Girl could not so impose silence on the grown-ups, especially Uncle Roger.  He tormented her for the rest of the summer.  Never a breakfast did he sit down to, without gravely inquiring if they were sure there was no sawdust in the porridge.  Not a tweak of rheumatism did he feel but he vowed it was due to a needle, travelling about his body.  And Aunt Olivia was warned to label all the pincushions in the house.  “Contents, sawdust; not intended for puddings.”

CHAPTER XVIII.  HOW KISSING WAS DISCOVERED

An August evening, calm, golden, dewless, can be very lovely.  At sunset, Felicity, Cecily, and Sara Ray, Dan, Felix, and I were in the orchard, sitting on the cool grasses at the base of the Pulpit Stone.  In the west was a field of crocus sky over which pale cloud blossoms were scattered.

Uncle Roger had gone to the station to meet the travellers, and the dining-room table was spread with a feast of fat things.

“It’s been a jolly week, take it all round,” said Felix, “but I’m glad the grown-ups are coming back to-night, especially Uncle Alec.”

“I wonder if they’ll bring us anything,” said Dan.

“I’m thinking long to hear all about the wedding,” said Felicity, who was braiding timothy stalks into a collar for Pat.

“You girls are always thinking about weddings and getting married,” said Dan contemptuously.

“We ain’t,” said Felicity indignantly.  “I am never going to get married.  I think it is just horrid, so there!”

“I guess you think it would be a good deal horrider not to be,” said Dan.

“It depends on who you’re married to,” said Cecily gravely, seeing that Felicity disdained reply.  “If you got a man like father it would be all right.  But s’posen you got one like Andrew Ward?  He’s so mean and cross to his wife that she tells him every day she wishes she’d never set eyes on him.”

“Perhaps that’s why he’s mean and cross,” said Felix.

“I tell you it isn’t always the man’s fault,” said Dan darkly.  “When I get married I’ll be good to my wife, but I mean to be boss.  When I open my mouth my word will be law.”

“If your word is as big as your mouth I guess it will be,” said Felicity cruelly.

“I pity the man who gets you, Felicity King, that’s all” retorted Dan.

“Now, don’t fight,” implored Cecily.

“Who’s fighting?” demanded Dan.  “Felicity thinks she can say anything she likes to me, but I’ll show her different.”

Probably, in spite of Cecily’s efforts, a bitter spat would have resulted between Dan and Felicity, had not a diversion been effected at that moment by the Story Girl, who came slowly down Uncle Stephen’s Walk.

“Just look how the Story Girl has got herself up!” said Felicity.  “Why, she’s no more than decent!”