Читать книгу Cloudy Jewel - Grace Livingston Hill - Страница 6

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“I suppose she’ll be mortally offended,” murmured Julia Cloud in troubled hesitancy.

“Well, suppose she is; she’ll get over it, won’t she?” growled Allison. “And anyhow you’re old enough to manage your own affairs, Cloudy Jewel. I guess you’re older than she is, aren’t you? I guess you’ve got a right to do as you please, haven’t you? And you do want to go with us, don’t you?” His voice was anxious.

“I certainly do, dear boy,” said Julia Cloud eagerly; “but you know your guardian may not approve at all when he sees what a foolish ‘young’ aunt I am, allowing you to sit up late and talk fairy stories all the time.”

They smothered her in kisses, compliments, and assurances; and it was some time before the conversation swung around again to the important subject of the morning.

“You don’t have to do anything to the house but just shut it up, do you?” asked Allison, looking anxiously about in a helpless, mannish way. “Because, if you do, we ought to be getting to work.”

“There’s a man over at Harmony Village that wanted to rent a house here,” said Julia Cloud thoughtfully. “I might write a letter to him. I don’t know whether he’s found anything or not. He’s the new superintendent of the high school. But it’s time we got dressed and had breakfast.”

“Write to him nothing!” said Allison eagerly. “I’ll get the car, and we’ll drive over to Harmony in no time, and get the thing fixed up. Hustle there, Leslie, and get yourself togged up. We don’t need 41 to wait for breakfast; we can eat cookies. Hurry everybody!” And he slammed over to his own room and began to stir about noisily.

Julia Cloud arose and made a hasty toilet, with a bright spot of excitement on each cheek; but she had no time to think what Ellen would say, for she meant that these children should have a real old-time breakfast before they began the day; and now that she was up her little round black clock on the bureau told her that it was high time the day had begun. She looked fearfully out of the window, half expecting to see Ellen’s Ford bobbing down the hill already, and then hurried down to the kitchen. Allison soon came down, calling out to her to be ready when he came back with the car; but the delicious odors that had already begun to float out from the old kitchen made him lenient toward the idea of breakfast; and, when he came back with the full cut-out roaring the announcement of his arrival to the Perkinses, he was quite ready to wait a few minutes and eat some of Julia Cloud’s flapjacks and sausages with maple-syrup and apple-sauce.

Julia Cloud herself ate little. She was in a tremor of delightful uncertainty and dread. Ought she to go ahead this way and manage her own affairs, leaving her own sister out of the question? But then, if she consulted with Ellen that meant consulting with Herbert; for Herbert ran his wife most thoroughly, and Herbert could make things very unpleasant when he took the trouble.

So, when the children, unable at last to eat any more, pleaded with her to leave the dishes and go to see 42 the man about the house at once, she gave one swift, apprehensive glance about, and assented. If Ellen should come to the house while they were away, and should look in at the window and see the breakfast dishes standing! It would be appalling! But, as the children said, why worry? Somehow she felt like a little schoolgirl playing hookey as she carefully drew down the dining-room and kitchen window-shades that looked on the back porch, and locked the front door behind her. Well, perhaps she had earned the right to take this bit of a holiday, and wash her dishes when she liked. Anyhow, hadn’t God sent these blessed children to her in answer to her earnest prayer that He would show her what to do and save her if possible from having to spend the remainder of her days under Herbert Robinson’s roof? Well, then she would just accept it that way and be grateful, at least until He showed her otherwise. So she drew a long breath of delight, and climbed into the luxurious back seat of the great blue car, utterly oblivious of the prying eyes behind the parlor shade across the way.

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