“I’ve arranged a great many myself, so I know just how. And it’s very pretty work, and though, of course, it’s some trouble, it’s not nearly so much as a garden.”
“It’s beautiful!” cried Marjorie; “I’m crazy to get at it. Can we begin now? Aren’t you through your breakfast, Miss Larkin? You don’t want any more coffee, do you? Come on, let’s get to work!”
“Oh, Marjorie, you’ll drive me distracted!” cried the poor lady, clapping her hands to her head. “I ’most wish I hadn’t proposed it.”
“Please excuse her, Miss Larkin,” said King. “She’s a bad-mannered young thing, but I’ll tame her.”
Jumping up, King caught off Marjorie’s hair-ribbon and ran round the table with it. Of course, Midget ran after him, and a general scramble followed.
Watching her chance to get out of the room without tumbling over the combatants, Miss Larkin escaped, and, running up to her own room, locked herself in.
“Now, you’ve made her mad, King,” said Marjorie, reproachfully. She wasn’t a bit annoyed, herself, at King’s capers, but it was quite evident that Miss Larkin was.
“What geese you two are,” remarked Kitty. “I don’t see why you want to carry on so.”
“Look out, Kit, or you’ll lose your own hair-ribbon,” said King, grinning, as he made a threatening move toward her big blue bow.
“Oh, take it if you want it,” said Kitty, pulling it off, herself, and offering it politely to her brother.