A pleasant-voiced woman called out to them cheerily, and a moment later entered the room. Mrs. Bronson's face, which singularly resembled her youngest daughter's, had once been very pretty, but now showed many traces of anxious care. Her expression was of one who was constantly thinking over worrisome matters. But at the sight of the trio her face lit up, the lines smoothed away temporarily, and ten years seemed magically to drop from her as she sat down in the group, questioning them about the affairs of their day.
After a few moments the twins went off downstairs to help Sarah with the dinner, and Margaret was left to her coveted half-hour alone with her mother.
"Oh, Mummy," she sighed, snuggling her head on Mrs. Bronson's shoulder, "this is lovely! You don't often get home so early. But I appreciate it specially, because I feel sort of blue and no-'count to-night."
"Is that so, dear?" exclaimed her mother, some of the anxious lines returning to her face. "Is the pain worse? What has happened to-day?"
"No, it isn't my back," Margaret almost sobbed. "It's just that nothing has happened—to me—to-day; nothing ever does happen! I just sit here all day long, waiting for 'something to turn up,' like Dickens' Mr. Micawber, and nothing ever does turn up! The twins go out and meet nice people and have pleasant things happen, but there's nothing like that for me. Oh, I want some adventures—just one nice, big, beautiful adventure would do—some delightful, unexpected surprise! I'd be content if I could have just one!" It was very unusual for Margaret to make the slightest complaint, and it was well now that her head was on her mother's shoulder, and that she did not see the sudden pain in Mrs. Bronson's face.
"Dearie, I know!" her mother said. "It's dull enough for you, sitting here day after day. But we're all doing the best we can to make you happy. After all, you never can tell what's going to happen. Just keep on hoping for something interesting to 'turn up,' and I'm sure sometime it will. Things occasionally happen in the most unexpected way! Even Mr. Micawber had something pleasant 'turn up' after a while, if you remember."
Margaret snuggled her head closer. "You're a dear, Mummy! You do cheer me up so! I feel better already, and I'm going to hope harder than ever that something nice and interesting—some real adventure—will turn up sometime, perhaps soon!"