Allan laughed.

"Send him back to Wallraven, and tell Johnny Hewitt to see that he's
plunged into the middle of the chickenpox epidemic we fled from. How
would you like that, young man?"

Philip looked up with deprecating politeness, on being directly
addressed.

"Please, Faver, if you don't mind my name's Jinks! You must say,
'Here, Jinks,' and I say 'Woof! Woof!' and wag my tail."

"Say wuff!" echoed Angela, with a dazzling smile at her elders, and
an effort not to tumble over on the grass.

Phyllis pounced on her babies at Allan's alarming suggestion, and
managed to hug them both at once; an ordeal which Philip stood with
every evidence of pleasure, and Angela under protest.

"My poor little lambs! ... Allan, this is the first chickenpox
they've had up there since the summer we came. We'd been married a
month or so, and you weren't quite sure whether you liked me or not.
Do you remember?"

"I remember that first summer," said he. "It's the only part of
those seven years that I do want to remember. But the chickenpox
part of it had escaped me."

"Well, of course," his wife admitted, "in those days children's