It was little Kate who spoke next.
"Uncle William, would she have got Uncle Cyril if Aunt Marie hadn't nabbed him first ?" "Kate!" The word was a chorus of dismay this time.
Mrs.Hartwell struggled to her feet.
"Come, come, Kate, we must go up-stairs--to bed," she stammered.
The little girl drew back indignantly.
"To bed?
Why, mama, I haven't had my supper yet!" "What?
Oh, sure enough--the lights! I forgot.

Well, then, come up--to change your dress," finished Mrs.Hartwell, as with a despairing look and gesture she led her young daughter from the room..