maker of the custard.

Seeing which, Patricia concluded that the best thing to do was to take
her charge away as quickly as possible. And in the confusion milk and
cookies were quite forgotten.

"Really, you know," Patricia admonished, once they were outside the
gate, "you're not behaving at all well! Tearing table-cloths, chasing
cats, and eating up custards aren't at all good dog manners."

The culprit, quick to detect the disapproval in Patricia's voice,
thought it time to limp again.

"Is your paw very bad?" Patricia asked.

The dog assured her that it was.

"I don't know what we're going to do next," Patricia told him. And
once back on the main road, she came to a standstill. She couldn't take
her protégé home; even less could she desert him. She sat down by the
roadside to consider the matter--to consider various other matters, as
well. Even with Patricias there comes the moment of reckoning.

Aunt Julia had said that the next time she evaded sewing-lesson she must
go to bed at five o'clock. Patricia stretched out her tired little legs;
at the present moment that particular form of punishment did not appear
very unendurable. Just now, however, it seemed doubtful if she would be
at home by five o'clock.

Also, Daddy had said that the next time she broke bounds in this way