life without Mullinses at best was going to be a blank and dismal affair, but to cut Mullinses, and a motor trip in a magnificent car, out of his life at one swift blow had been too much for his soul. His rebellion now found vent in these sour words:
"I wish Brewsters would come. I wish they'd come and stay!"
He rose to his feet and moodily left the room. Sara cast a reproachful glance after him.
"Oh, dear!" she said, "oh, dear, now he's going to be trying all day!" Then she returned with zest to her former conversation. "Do they look like people, Brewsters?"
"Yes," said Tom, "they have the human form; but that's all.
Here Jamie let his spoon fall with a clatter. Alice turned toward him and observed that he was staring at his father wide-eyed. The menace of the Brewsters had for some reason arrested his imagination as had nothing else before. Sara, also, observed her brother. To see him thus stirred from his usual tranquil calm made the thought of Brewsters all the more menacing and delightful.
"How will they come—on broomsticks?" she asked.
"Broomsticks? Of course not! How would any disagreeable thing come? In a motor, of course. They'll come in a big black motor, and I've no doubt their chauffeur will look like a hearse driver."
For the next little while peace brooded over the Marcey household. It was so intense that presently Alice went to find out where her children were. Robert was lying on the lawn on his stomach, his eyes fixed on vacancy. He was brooding deeply and bitterly over his great grief. It was evident that parents seemed to him inimical to all the joys of childhood. When Alice called
