"I know what I'll do," Eleanor decided dreamily with her nose against
the pane. "I'll just pretend that she's Mrs. O'Farrel's aunt, and then
whatever she does, I shan't care. I'll know that I'm the strongest and
could hit her if I had a mind to, and then I shan't want to."

David contemplated her gravely for several seconds.

"By the time you grow up, Eleanor," he said finally, "you will have
developed all your cooperative parents into fine strong characters.
Your educational methods are wonderful."

* * * * *

"The dog got nearly drownded today in the founting," Eleanor wrote.
"It is a very little dog about the size of Gwendolyn. It was out with
Mademoiselle, and so was I, learning French on a garden seat. It
teetered around on the edge of the big wash basin--the founting looks
like a wash basin, and suddenly it fell in. I waded right in and got
it, but it slipped around so I couldn't get it right away. It looked
almost too dead to come to again, but I gave it first aid to the
drownded the way Uncle Jimmie taught me to practicing on Gwendolyn.
When I got it fixed I looked up and saw Uncle David's mother coming. I
took the dog and gave it to her. I said, 'Madam, here's your dog.'
Mademoiselle ran around ringing her hands and talking about it. Then I
went up to Mrs. Bolling's room, and we talked. I told her how to make
mustard pickles, and how my mother's grandpa's relation came over in
the Mayflower, and about our single white lilac bush, and she's going
to get one and make the pickles. Then I played double Canfield with
her for a while. I'm glad I didn't go home before I knew her better.
When she acts like Mrs. O'Farrel's aunt I pretend she is her, and we
don't quarrel. She says does Uncle David go much to see Aunt Beulah,
and I say, not so often as Uncle Jimmie does. Then she says does he go
to see Aunt Margaret, and I say that he goes to see Uncle Peter the
most. Well, if he doesn't he almost does. You can't tell Mrs. Madam
Bolling that you won't tattle, because she would think the worst."

* * * * *

Eleanor grew to like Mademoiselle. She was the aging, rather wry
faced Frenchwoman who had been David's young brother's governess and
had made herself so useful to Mrs. Bolling that she was kept always on
the place, half companion and half resident housekeeper. She was glad
to have a child in charge again, and Eleanor soon found