He
hasn't yet, here. We just came, you know."
"I'm so glad you did!" said Joy fervently.
"We were like Old Man Kangaroo--we had to!" smiled Phyllis. "There's
chickenpox at our usual summer home, so we basely fled, leaving
Johnny to struggle against its fearful ravages single-handed."
Joy sat Angela down, because she was beginning to wriggle.
"Is Johnny your brother?" she asked shyly.
Phyllis shook her head.
"I haven't a relative on earth, except these babies--of course
Allan's more of a relative by marriage. No, Johnny Hewitt's the
family doctor, a classmate of Allan's, and a family possession. He
might as well live with us, he's so much about the house and garden.
I suppose this place is very good for the angel-children, but I'm
afraid that in a few days I'm going to wish I was back among the
roses, with Allan and Johnny and a banjo and a moon!"
Joy's eyes lighted.
"Roses?" she said. "Oh, have you a rose-bush!"
Phyllis laughed.
"'Do we keep a bee?' We have a garden full of roses. The gardener
hints mournfully that we ought to take prizes with them, but I know
perfectly well that would mean I couldn't pick them unless he let
me. So I've given him a bush to play with, and he does take prizes
with that. He's colored, so Allan says we have to encourage him to
have ambitions. He's married to the cook. Our having colored
servants shocked the neighbors terribly at first, but they're
hardened to it now.
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