"What have you done now?" asked Mrs. Slater, who seemed very much less terrifying than the girls had expected to find her. "Confession is good for the soul, my dear."
Henrietta's infectious laugh gurgled out suddenly and merrily.
"I've frightened four girls almost into spasms," said she. "You see, Grannie, I told them that they'd have to call formally if they wanted me to visit them. When they came you were out, so I took them upstairs, gave them things to eat and a jolly good time, generally. Then, just for a joke, I had Greta tell me when you were coming and I led them carefully down the back way, made them go round the block and do it all over again, cards and all. You see, Grannie, they don't know you. They haven't seen anything but your husk; and I had them scared blue; didn't I, girls?"
"Midge, you shouldn't have done it," reproved Mrs. Slater, whose black eyes, however, were sparkling with only half-suppressed merriment. "That wasn't quite a courteous way to treat your guests!"
"Forgive me," pleaded Henrietta, flopping down on her knees and looking the very picture of penitence. "Walk on me, Jean. Wipe your shoes on me, Bettie. I grovel at your feet—at everybody's feet."
"Don't grovel too hard in that dress," warned Mrs. Slater.
"Am I forgiven?" implored Henrietta, gathering up her ruffles with elaborate care.
The girls were not certain. Their pride had been injured and they eyed Henrietta doubtfully.
"When you've known Midge as long as I have," said Mrs. Slater, "you'll discover that she is really too tender-hearted to hurt a fly. But you'll also discover that she never misses an opportunity to play pranks on every soul she loves. It's a symbol of her favor. She will never tell you an untruth, she is too honorable to practise downright deceit; but depend on it, girls, she will fool you until you won't believe your own ears. And she's always sorry, afterwards. She spends half her time apologizing."