Florelle beamed at this, and looked like a little cherub, until Reginald slyly took a cake from her plate.
"Oh-h-h!" screamed Florelle, bursting into tears, "he took my cakie, he did,—give it to me!" and she began pounding her brother with her small fists.
But Reginald had eaten it, and no other cake on the plate would pacify the angry child.
"No, no," she cried, "I want that same one—it had a green nut on it,—and I wa-a-ant it!"
"But brother can't give it to you, baby, he's eaten it," said her father, vainly trying to console her with other dainties.
But Florelle continued to scream, and Mrs. St. Clair was obliged to summon the nurse and have her taken up-stairs.
"Well, that's a relief," said Ethelyn, as the struggling child was carried away. "I told you you'd hear her yell pretty often, Patricia."
Patty felt rather embarrassed, and didn't know what to say; she was beginning to think Villa Rosa had some thorns as well as roses.
After dinner, as they sat round the great fireplace in the library, Mrs. St. Clair announced:
