In the meantime, Mr. and Mrs. Ross had been busy bestowing caresses and
small gifts upon their children, who received them with noisy glee mingled
with some reproaches because they had been left at home.

"Come, come, no complaints," said their father; "I think you have fared
well;--a holiday, a picnic, and these pretty presents. Where's Gertrude?"

"Sure enough, where is she?" asked Lucy, looking round from one to
another.

"She's mad because you did not take her along," remarked Harry, "she says
you didn't keep your promise."

"Dear me, I'd forgotten all about it!" exclaimed Mrs. Ross. "I should have
taken her though, but there wasn't time to get her up and dressed."

"Gertrude! Gertrude!" called Mr. Ross, in tones of authority, "Gertrude,
come here and show yourself."

At that the child came slowly out from the hall--whence she had been
watching the scene through the crack behind the door--looking red and
angry.

"What's the matter with you?" asked her father, with some displeasure in
his tones.

"Nothing, I'm not crying."

"Nor pouting either, I suppose? What's it all about."