‘Shall Kitty and I stop and help you?’ asked Micky eagerly.
Real actual plotting, if only about blankets, was more fun than the most splendid story-game ever invented.
‘Oh, I can manage quite well by myself,’ said Emmeline; ‘and you would find it very dull waiting, perhaps ever so long, for a chance of getting the blankets out of the kennel. Besides, what I really want you to do is to keep Diamond Jubilee safe amused and out of the garden, and if you can get him to like the Feudal Castle it’ll be the greatest help of all. You see, he simply must sleep there alone to-night. It would be too much of a risk for you to sleep out with him in the summer-house again.’
‘Don’t mean to,’ said Micky cheerfully; ‘the summer-house is very nice for an adventure, but not for always.’ As a matter of fact, it had been so extremely hard and cold that it had only been by dint of pretending that he was in prison that Micky had enjoyed it even as an adventure.
To be able to play at a story-game, and to feel at the same time that they were being ‘the greatest help of all’ in the Diamond Jubilee secret, was delightful to the twins; so they and Punch trotted out of the garden to look for him as soon as ever dinner was over; whilst Emmeline reached down ‘The Wide Wide World’ from its place in the bookshelf, and took it out with her to the wooden seat on the back lawn, where she meant to wait and watch for the coast to be clear.
It was anything but clear for the moment, for Mr. Brown was doing something to one of the flower-beds at one end of the lawn, and Cook’s face kept appearing at the scullery window, but Emmeline settled herself down to wait very contentedly. ‘The Wide Wide World’ was a book of which she never grew tired, and a quiet, peaceful time for reading it was far more to her taste than an afternoon with Diamond Jubilee. Try as she would, she could not feel much craving for the company of her adopted son.
Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour passed. Emmeline looked up from her story. Cook had disappeared from the scullery window—probably she had gone upstairs to dress for the afternoon—but that tiresome Mr. Brown was still attending to his flower-bed. Clearly it was not yet the moment for making her raid, and with a sigh, half of disappointment, half of relief, Emmeline relapsed into her tale.
She had been reading for longer than she realised, when she was startled by the crunching of footsteps on the gravel, and turning her head, saw Kitty and Punch coming up the path.
‘Haven’t you got them out yet?’ asked Kitty in a disappointed voice as she came close up to Emmeline.