hadn't."

This speech frightened the woman. It wouldn't do to provoke Uncle John,
however unreasonable he happened to be. So she said, meekly:

"I've no doubt Louise will be delighted to go, and so will I."

"You!"

"Why--why--whom do you intend taking?"

"Just the three girls--Aunt Jane's three nieces. Also mine."

"But you'll want a chaperone for them."

"Why so?"

"Propriety requires it; and so does ordinary prudence. Louise, I know,
will be discreet, for it is her nature; but Patsy is such a little
flyaway and Beth so deep and demure, that without a chaperone they might
cause you a lot of trouble."

Uncle John grew red and his eyes flashed.

"A chaperone!" he cried, contemptuously; "not any in mine, Martha
Merrick. Either we young folks go alone, without any death's head to
perpetually glower at us, or we don't go at all! Three better girls
never lived, and I'll trust 'em anywhere. Besides that, we aren't going
to any of your confounded social functions; we're going on a reg'lar
picnic, and if I don't give those girls the time of their lives my name