"Aren't they glad the sickness is all over?" asked Kitty.
"Yes, of course. But they never 'celebrate.' I guess they don't know how very well. And Mrs. Spencer is very quiet. Much noise makes her head ache."
"Mr. Spencer was awful quiet, too," said King. "He hardly ever laughed all the time he was here. Except the night we wrote the valentines. Then he laughed, cause we made him write poetry and he couldn't."
"Well, they're nice people," said Midge, "but awful different from us.
I'm glad I'm a Maynard!"
"I'm glad you are!" said her father.
The next day Mrs. Maynard announced her intention of going over to see
Mrs. Spencer, and thanking her for her care of Marjorie.
"But it does seem funny," said Midge, "to thank her for keeping me there, when I couldn't possibly get away! But she was good to me, though really she didn't pay very much attention to me. But I s'pose that was 'cause she was so bothered about the little sick boy. But, Mother, do thank Miss Hart, too. She was lovely; and she put herself out lots of times, to make it pleasant for Delight and me. Give her plenty of thanks, will you, Mother?"
"Yes, Midget; and what about Delight?"
"Oh, yes, thank her too. She was kind and pleasant,—only,—well, it seems mean to say so,—but, Mother, she is a little selfish. I didn't mind, really; only I don't think it's quite nice to be selfish to a guest."
"Perhaps not, Mar; one; but neither is it nice to criticise your little hostess."