all day. I shall be sure that you really are a cross old thing, if you don’t go!’

‘Tut, Blossom!’ laughed my aunt. ‘You know you can’t do without me!’

‘Yes, I can,’ said Dora.

‘You are no use to me at all. You never run up and down stairs for me, all day long. You never sit and tell me stories about Doady, when his shoes were worn out, and he was covered with dust — oh, what a poor little mite of a fellow! You never do anything at all to please me, do you, dear?’ Dora made haste to kiss my aunt, and say, ‘Yes, you do! I’m only joking!’-lest my aunt should think she really meant it.

‘But, aunt,’ said Dora, coaxingly,