This was a new view of things, and Marjorie brightened up considerably.
“Shall I be head of the house, Mother? May I sit at the head of the table?”
Mrs. Maynard took a moment to think this over. Marjorie was only twelve, and she was sometimes a harum-scarum little girl; but, on the other hand, if she felt a sense of importance, she often acted with good sense and judgment beyond her years. At last Mrs. Maynard said:
“Yes, Midget; I believe I will let you sit at the head of the table. Miss Larkin is really a guest, and I think it would be better for you to be hostess in my place. Kingdon will sit in his father’s place, and I shall trust you two to uphold the dignity and decorum of the Maynard household.”
“Will Miss Larkin like that?” said Marjorie.
“I think so; or I should not consent to the arrangement. Miss Larkin is, I know, more anxious to please you children, than you are to please her. And so, to please me, I want you all to be very good to her. Kind, polite, deferential, considerate, all the things that a host and hostess should be to their guest.”
“H’m,” said Marjorie, considering; “p’raps she’d better be hostess, and let me be guest.”
“No, Mopsy; that matter’s settled. You shall be the lady of the house; and Miss Larkin your honored guest for whose pleasure and comfort you must do all you can.”
“Pooh,” said King, “if she’s only company, I don’t see why she need come at all.”
“In return for your kindness to her, she will do much for you. She will really keep house, in the sense of giving orders, looking after your clothes and mending, and superintending the servants.”