“Dear oh, me,” sighed Florence, “we are getting our standards way up. I should probably fall all over myself if I attempted to do anything for him. I am almost scared to death at the mere thought.”
“He won’t bite you,” replied Helen, “and you don’t have to get close enough to him to comb his eyebrows. What I mean is that we can ‘be diligent and studious’ as the old copy-books used to have it, speak well of his school, and not carry tales home that will make our families think we are martyrs and that he is an ogre, or someone to be feared constantly.”
“Helen Darby! I’d like to know who has been giving you all these new ideas,” said Florence.
“Why, I think Mrs. Conway started them by the way she talked to Agnes, and I have a modest claim to some brains of my own, so I thought out the rest and talked it over with father who put things very clearly before me, and showed me that school-girls are half the time silly geese who seem to think their teachers are created for the mere purpose of making their lives miserable. Father said that the shoe was usually on the other foot, and that the girls were much more liable to make the teachers’ lives miserable. That set me a-thinking. Let me remark in passing that father says he thinks our club is great, and he wants to have a hand in furnishing the entertaining some time.”
This announcement made quite a ripple of excitement, for Mr. Darby did nothing by halves and it was expected that there would be a good time for the G. R.’s when they met at Helen’s house.
Edna kept in mind what had been said about Uncle Justus and before very long came an opportunity to prove her powers of doing him a kindness. It was just before Thanksgiving that Mrs. Conway came in one Thursday afternoon to see Aunt Elizabeth and of course her own two little daughters as well. Edna sat very close to her mother on the sofa, her hand stroking the smooth kid glove she wore.
It was a queer thing to have her mother for company, but it was very delightful, too.
“I hope you and Uncle Justus can come out to take Thanksgiving dinner with us,” said Mrs. Conway to her aunt.
“Thank you, my dear, but I am afraid it is impossible,” was the response. “I long ago promised to go to sister Julia’s, and hoped Justus would go, too, but he insists that he cannot possibly take the time, for it is something of a trip. He says he has some school papers he must attend to, and moreover, has promised to address a meeting in the afternoon, so that it will be impossible.”
“I am very sorry,” returned Mrs. Conway, “for we had quite counted on you both. Perhaps Uncle Justus can take the time to come to us even if he cannot go so far as Aunt Julia’s.”