“Nornie has told you of the insurance trouble, Jean? How came she to do such a thing?” asked Mrs. Carruth, at a loss to understand why Eleanor had disobeyed her in the matter.
“She told me ’cause I was so mad at her and Connie for having secrets, and treating me as if I hadn’t the least little bit of sense, and couldn’t be trusted. I am little, Mumsey, dear, but I can help. You see if I can’t, and the boys were just splendid and want me to come every Saturday. Please, please say I may go,” and Jean kissed her mother’s forehead, cheeks and chin by way of persuasion.
It must be confessed that Mrs. Carruth responded to these endearments in a rather abstracted manner, for she had had much to think of within the past few hours.
“Please say yes,” begged Jean.
“Childie, I can not say yes or no just this moment. I am too overwhelmed by what I have heard. I must know all now, and learn it from Mammy and Constance. I cannot realize that one of my children had actually entered upon such a venture. What would your father say?” ended Mrs. Carruth, as though all the traditions of the Carruths, to say nothing of the Blairsdales, had been shattered to bits and thrown broadcast.
“But you’ll tell me before next Saturday, won’t you? You know the boys will be on the lookout for their candy and will be so disappointed if I don’t take it.”
“I can not promise anything now. The first thing to do is to eat our luncheon; it is long past two o’clock. Then we will hold a family council and I hope I shall recover my senses; I declare I feel as though they were tottering.”
Mrs. Carruth rose from her chair and with Jean dancing beside her entered the dining-room to partake of a very indifferent meal, for Mammy had been too exercised to give her usual care and thought to its preparation.
[CHAPTER XVII—A Family Council]
Luncheon was over and Mrs. Carruth, the girls and Mammy were seated in the library; Mammy’s face being full of solicitude for her Miss Jinny. Mammy could no more have been left out of this family council than could Eleanor.