She had puzzled over the knotty problem all the way home.

"How can papas not love their little girls ?" "'Cause he's stubbo'n," was the unsatisfactory answer.

"All the Lloyds is.

Yo' mamma's stubbo'n, an' you's stubbo'n--" "I'm not!" shrieked the Little Colonel, stamping her foot.

"You sha'n't call me names!" Then she saw a familiar white hand waving to her from the hammock, and she broke away from Mom Beck with very red cheeks and very bright eyes.
Cuddled close in her mother's arms, she had a queer feeling that she had grown a great deal older in that short afternoon.
Maybe she had.