[CHAPTER XII]
MOUSEY GOES OUT TO TEA
MOUSEY had been perfectly correct in her surmise that Nellie Thomas would make fun of Mr. Harding. This she did on the following day, when all the girls were assembled in the playground.
"I wish you could have seen Mousey's cousin yesterday," she said, laughing merrily. "Such a funny old man he looked, and, oh, so shabby! Mousey, I wonder you were not ashamed to be seen with him!"
"Ashamed!" Mousey cried, her cheeks burning, her heart swelling with anger; "why should I be ashamed of Cousin Robert?"
"Because he's such a miser, and dresses so shabbily," Nellie retorted. "I declare it's positively wicked of him to be so mean! My father says Mr. Harding could afford to live in a nice house, and keep several servants; but he prefers that dirty little shop of his. He won't give money to anything, or anybody—not even to the hospital. And he never goes to church, does he, Mousey?"
"No," Mousey acknowledged reluctantly, in a troubled voice, feeling ready to cry. It was very trying for her to be obliged to stand by and listen to all this; but she could not prevent the girls discussing Mr. Harding if they were inclined to do so. "I wish you wouldn't run out against Cousin Robert," she added, looking appealingly at Nellie: "I can't bear to hear it."
"Very well," Nellie responded good-humouredly; "but why should you mind?"
"He is very good to me," Mousey said earnestly.
"So he ought to be! Mother said yesterday that you looked a nice little girl, and she was glad we were friends. And, oh, Mousey, she said I might ask you to tea next Saturday! Do you think Mr. Harding will let you come?"