“But I want you to.” “When is Mamma coming home?” “I don’t know.” “Well, I’m goin’ to Mis’ Hamilton’s to find her.” “No, you’re not going to do any such thing.” Dimmie began to cry. “Now, Jimmie, there’s no use in your crying, just because I want you to behave yourself half decently. Stop this instant!” “I--I--w-want my m-mamma,” sobbed Dimmie louder than ever. “What in the world is the matter?” cried Lucy agitatedly, at this moment coming in through the kitchen on her return from her neighbor’s. “It means that you have a very naughty little boy, Lucy. He wouldn’t do anything I told him while you were away.” “I d-did too,” declared Dimmie between sobs. “I d-did lots of things.” “Well, you wouldn’t sit still when I told you,” said Nannie. “He’s a very little boy to have to sit still such a long time,” replied Lucy, taking Dimmie on her lap where he began to cry comfortably with his head against her bosom. “Lucy, I’d like to know how you expect me to have any control over the child when you take his part like that!” Nannie protested. “I don’t expect anyone to have control over him except his father and myself,” said Lucy. “Yet you expect me to look after him without any authority over him whatever!” retorted Mrs. Merwent. “I won’t worry you with him again, Mamma,” returned Lucy. “I didn’t think you would mind for a few minutes.” “There you go, Lucy! Misunderstanding me again, as usual. And over such a trivial thing, too! Much gratitude I’ve received for overlooking the past and coming more than half way! I sometimes think dear Mother was right when she said you had no heart. She never got over the way you treated her.” After John and Lucy had retired to their room that night, Lucy said, “I am going to send Dimmie to kindergarten, John. Mrs. Hamilton’s little girl goes, and I believe it’s a good thing for young children.” “All right,” consented John, yawning. * * * * * Dimmie was in such a state of excitement over the prospect of going to kindergarten with Stella Hamilton that he could hardly eat his breakfast. Lucy had dressed him in his prettiest suit, and, after the meal, he wandered aimlessly about the house, too conscious of his ceremonious costume to play. “Ain’t it time yet, Mamma?” he asked again and again. “No, dear, not yet,” his mother replied on each occasion. Mrs. Merwent was still asleep when Lucy telephoned to the kindergarten for the carry-all to call for Dimmie. When Nannie came downstairs she was surprised to find him in such gala array. “Why, what are you so fixed up for, Jimmie?” she asked. Just then Lucy entered from the back yard with some flowers in her hand. It had rained during the night and the blossoms were wet and glistening. “I’m going to take him to kindergarten,” Lucy explained. “He’s beginning this morning.” She was dressed for the street. “You can breakfast alone, can’t you, Mamma?”