Her Prairie Knight
"Why, Be'trice? Gran-mama'll let you go, I guess. Can't she go, gran'mama?"
It was Mrs. Lansell's turn to test the exquisite torture of that prickly chill along the spine. Like Beatrice, she dodged.
"Little boys," she announced weakly, "should not speak until they're spoken to."
Dick came near strangling on a shred of chicken.
"Can't she go, gran'mama? Say, can't she? Tell Beatrice to go home wis us, gran'mama!"
"Beatrice"—Mrs. Lansell swallowed—"is not a little child any longer, Dorman. She is a woman and can do as she likes. I"—she was speaking to the whole group—"I can only advise her."
Dorman gave a squeal of triumph. "See? You can go, Be'trice! Gran'mama says you can go. You will go, won't you, Be'trice? Say yes!"
"No!" said Beatrice, with desperate emphasis. "I won't."
"I want—Be'trice—to go-o!" Dorman slid down upon his shoulder blades, gave a squeal which was not triumph, but temper, and kicked the table till every dish on it danced.
"Dorman sit up!" commanded his auntie. "Dor-
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