‘Master Micky, if you don’t get back to bed this instant, you shan’t have any tea at all, not even dry bread,’ said Jane, and Micky beat a hasty retreat. Troubles never took away his appetite, and he knew from past experience that Jane’s threats were not empty ones.
It was soon Kitty’s turn to get into trouble. Never was there such a day of scrapes.
They were in the middle of tea when Jane stalked grimly in, carrying an article, the sight of which nearly made Emmeline drop her cup with fright. It was the hot-water can with Kitty’s sash attached to its spout and handle. All the agitations of the day had driven the thought of it out of their heads, and it had lain forgotten under its laurel-bush until five minutes ago, when Mr. Brown had unfortunately caught a glimpse of the blue sash and dragged it to light.
‘What’s the meaning of this, Miss Kitty?’ demanded Jane, in a voice of awful calm.
Kitty had nothing like Micky’s coolness. She turned crimson, hung her head, and muttered something about a lift, which made Emmeline feel terribly alarmed as to what she might be going to let out.
‘A lift!’ sniffed Jane, pouncing on the poor word, ‘and what have you been lifting with your best party sash, I’d like to know? Leaving it out in the rain, too, till the colour’s all run, and it’s only fit for the rag-bag!’
‘It was—some things I wanted to let down to Micky in the garden,’ stammered Kitty, looking as though she very much hoped the floor would open and swallow her up.
‘Umph!’ grunted Jane. ‘Toys, I suppose, that he was too lazy to go up and fetch for himself, so he made you save him the trouble, same as he did the other day. I know his ways!’ (As a matter of fact, Micky was anything but lazy; and, though it was quite true that Jane had caught Kitty fagging for him the other day, that was only because he had happened to be a cruel slave-owner for the afternoon.) ‘That was it, wasn’t it?’
Kitty blushed a yet deeper crimson, and hung her head a little lower.
‘I thought so!’ said Jane. ‘Well, you can come to bed, too, and then perhaps you’ll know better another time. Come along,’ and, seizing Kitty’s hand, she marched off with her, muttering something about never having known such goings on in all her born days.