At this poor Dee began to howl again, refusing to be comforted, until it occurred to Margaret to suggest that if he was a bullabulloo Amy must be one, too, as she was his sister. This idea, once mastered, proved consoling, and Dee stopped crying. Margaret, to try to banish the remembrance of his trouble, turned him around to the window and called his attention to the children next door, who were running about the back yard in the rain and apparently enjoying it immensely. Ethel and Amy had joined them at the window, the latter standing on tip-toe to look. “That’s Jack and Cora,” she said, still grasping her doll with one arm, while she held on to the window-ledge with the other. “Oh, Auntie Mard’rit, they’re such awful bad children. They don’t mind their mamma nor nuthin’. You jes’ ought to see how bad they are. I jes’ expeck they’ll all grow up to be Yankees.” Margaret burst into a peal of laughter. “What makes you think they’ll grow up to be Yankees, Amy?” she said. “Did anybody ever tell you so?” “No, Auntie Mard’rit, but they’re so awful bad; and if they’re that bad when they’re little, I bet they _will_ grow up to be Yankees.” At this point Mrs. Guion entered, and Margaret related the story to her with great zest. “How _do_ you suppose they got hold of such an idea?” she said. “I can’t imagine,” said Mrs. Guion, “I’m sure they never got it from me. Alan will insist that they did, as he considers me a most bigoted rebel. But certainly I have never taught any such sentiment as that to the children. They must simply have imbibed it with the air they have breathed.” “It’s an excellent story,” said Margaret, laughing over it still; “I shall have no rest until I have told it to Mr. Gaston.” CHAPTER XII. Ever since Mrs. Gaston had called attention to the fact that Alan Decourcy had a habit of watching her, Margaret had been conscious that it was really the case. He always listened attentively when she spoke, applauding by eloquent looks and smiles when her sentiments pleased him, and looking annoyed and disappointed when they did not. She could not help seeing that he was studying her with a deliberateness she felt somewhat inclined to resent. It was hard to cherish any feeling of resentment against him, however, during that pleasant week in Baltimore, for he was kindness itself, contributing in every possible way to her comfort and enjoyment. Every night there was something pleasant going on, and Alan was always at hand, to act as escort, if no one else held the place. Margaret was delighted with Baltimore, and when she expressed herself to this effect, Mr. Decourcy showed such manifest approval of the sentiment that she half regretted it the next minute. She was beginning to feel a little disconcerted by certain signs she saw in Alan.