The Story Book Girls Part 7

Leighton spoke to them then.

"I thought you might be feeling like that," she said; "I did once also, long ago, when my father turned very ill, until I learned what I'm going to tell you now. We aren't here just to enjoy ourselves, or that would be an easy business, would it not? We are here to get what Cuthbert calls a few kicks now and again, to suffer a little, above all to remember that our father or our mother isn't the only loving parent we possess. What is the use of being taught to be devoted to goodness and truth, if one doesn't believe that goodness and truth are higher than anything, higher than human trouble? If you lost Cuthbert or me or papa, there is always that strong presence ready to hold you."

"Oh, mummy," sobbed Betty, "there seems nothing like holding your hand."

Mrs. Leighton stroked Betty's very softly.

"Would you like a little piece of news?" she asked.

"We would," said Elma.

"The only person who is asleep in this household--last asleep, is--Cuthbert."

"O--oh!"

Elma could not help laughing.

"And another thing," said Mrs. Leighton. "Didn't you notice? Not one of my girls asked a single question about the girl whom Cuthbert saved."

"How funny!"

Betty's sobs became much dimmer.

"Do you know who she was?" asked Mrs. Leighton.

"No," chimed both.

"Well, I don't know her name," said Mrs. Leighton. She rose and moved towards the door. "But I know one thing." She opened the door softly.

Elma and Betty sat up dry-eyed in bed.

"Remember what I said to you to-night," Mrs. Leighton said, "and don't be very ungrateful for all the happiness you've known, and little cowards when the frightening time comes. Promise me."

They promised.

She prepared to draw the door quietly behind her.

"She is staying with the Story Books," whispered Mrs. Leighton. Then she closed the door.

CHAPTER V

"The Story Books" Call

Mabel was sitting with Cuthbert when the Story Books called.

They really did call.

And nothing could have been more unpropitious.

First, they called very early in the afternoon, just when Betty, with her arms full of matting for her rabbits, rushed out at the front door.

She nearly ran into them. The matting slipped from her arms, and she stood spell-bound, gazing at the Story Books. Mrs. Dudgeon was there, looking half a size larger than any ordinary person. An osprey waved luxuriantly in a mauve toque, and her black dress bristled with grandeur. She produced a lorgnette and looked through it severely at Betty. Betty became half the size of an ordinary mortal.

Adelaide Maud was with Mrs. Dudgeon.

Adelaide Maud was in blue.

Adelaide Maud seemed stiff and bored.

"Is your mamma at home?" Mrs. Dudgeon asked.

Betty kicked the matting out of the way in a surrept.i.tious manner.

"Oh, please come in," she said shyly.

It was tragic that of all moments in one's life the Dudgeons should have come when Betty happened to be flying out, and they had not even had time to ring for Bertha, who, as parlour-maid, had really irreproachable showing in manners.

Betty tripped over a mat on her way to the drawing-room. Betty showed them in without a word of warning. Jean was singing at the piano--atrociously. Jean might know that she oughtn't to sing till her voice was developed. Elma was dusting photographs.

Nothing could have been more tragic.

The girls melted from the room, and left Mrs. Dudgeon and Adelaide Maud in the centre of it, stranded, staring.

"What an odd family," said Mrs. Dudgeon stiffly.

Adelaide Maud never answered.

The Leightons rushed frantically to other parts of the house.

The second tragedy occurred.

Mrs. Leighton utterly refused to change her quiet afternoon dress for another in which to receive Mrs. Dudgeon. She went to the drawing-room as she was.

They ran to Cuthbert's room to tell him about it. Cuthbert seemed rather excited when he asked which "Story Book." Elma said, "Oh, you know, _the_ one," and he concluded she meant Hermione, who did not interest him at all.

"Why couldn't you stay and talk to them?" he asked. "They wouldn't eat you. Who cares what you have on? The mater is quite right. She is just as nice in a morning costume as old Dudgeon in her war paint. You think too much of clothes, you kids."

"Yet you like to see us nicely dressed," wailed Jean.

"Of course I do. Mabel in that blue thing is a dream."

Mabel looked at him gratefully.

"Oh, if only Mabel had been sitting there embroidering, in her blue gown, and Bertha had shown them ceremoniously in! How lovely it would have been!" said Elma.

"I couldn't have worn my blue," said Mabel with a conscience-stricken look. "You know why."