“You look lovely,” she declared, “all of you. And, beside being dressed prettily, you all look unusually good. In fact, I’m ’most afraid you look too good to be true! But you will keep yourselves tidy till we return, won’t you? Don’t romp, or pull off hair-ribbons.”
“Touch those wonderful constructions!” exclaimed King, pointing to the unusually wide and elaborate bows that adorned the heads of his three sisters; “perish the thought! Nay! I will constitute myself chief protector of those marvels of headgear, and just as you see them now, so shall they stay to dazzle the eyes of the admiring Mortimers!”
When King declaimed in this highfalutin style, he was very funny, and even Miss Larkin smiled, though still a little anxious about their behavior.
“Well,” she said, with a sigh, “I must go. I leave you in charge, King; you’re the oldest. Can’t you read aloud or do something to amuse yourselves quietly? If you don’t, you’ll get to tumbling around before you know it.”
“Oh, we’ll be good, Miss Larkin,” declared Marjorie. “Skip along, now, or you’ll be late at the train.”
With a final glance round the pretty room, and at the pretty children, Miss Larkin went away.
“We’ll give her a surprise,” said Marjorie, as, from the window, she watched the carriage roll down the drive. “She really ’spects we’re going to tear around and get all tumbled up ’fore she comes back. Now, let’s be extra special careful to keep quiet and let her find us just as she left us.”
“It’s easy enough,” agreed Kitty, “if you only make up your mind to it. But don’t anybody read aloud—I hate it. If we want to read, let’s read to ourselves.”
“Don’t read,” said Midget, sociably; “let’s just talk.”
And so, perhaps unconsciously a little subdued by the atmosphere of the drawing-room, they sat quietly and conversed like model children.