The Minstrel preceding them, playing sweet airs.”
CHAPTER V
THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS
THE sun was shining o’er the sea, shining with all its might, and had been doing so for two hours, but no one in Hilarity Hall had awakened to the fact. A loud rap at the kitchen door partially roused sleepy Jessie, who murmured, “Yes, mamma,” and dozed off again. But Betty was thoroughly awakened by the sound, and, giving Jessie a shake, she exclaimed: “I believe it’s that horde of men again!” Then, springing up, she began to dress hastily.
The knocking not only continued but was supplemented by other peremptory sounds,—a ring at the front-door bell, a toot on a tin fish-horn, the postman’s whistle,—all of which were responded to by frantic barkings from Timmy Loo, who tore madly from one door to another, bouncing at last into Betty’s room and waltzing before her on his hind legs. His fat little body was quivering with excitement, and his bright eyes blinked through the wispy locks that hung over them.
But Betty was struggling with a stiff shirt-waist and a pair of sleeve-links, and her fruitless endeavors to bring them into harmony rendered her incapable of good work in that direction. Then Timmy Loo grew wheedlesome and patted Betty’s foot, as was his custom when he wanted anybody to go anywhere. Betty pushed him aside, a little impatiently it seemed to Tim, and he ran to Jessie, who was enjoying the added luxury of Betty’s pillow, and looking as if she would stay there undisturbed though China fell.
But the second-story contingent was also aroused by this time, and six frowzled heads hung over the banister and twelve bare feet poked themselves between the rails.
“Can’t you go, Betty?” said Marguerite’s plaintive voice.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” sang out Marjorie, as she skipped back to her room and made things fly.
“Oh, hang!” said Betty, throwing her links down on the bureau and flinging her shirt-waist across the room.