And even then they would not let her go to bed at once. She must turn out the lights, and sit in the hall between their rooms as she did long ago, and tell 37 the story of “The Little Rid Hin” just as she had told it night after night when they were children.
It was characteristic of the unfailing youth of the woman that she entered into the play with zest. Attired in a long kimono, with her beautiful white hair in two long silver braids down over her shoulders, she sat in the dark and told the story with the same vivid language; and then she stole on tiptoe first to the sister’s bedside, to tuck her in and kiss her softly, and then to the brother’s; and at each bedside a young, strong arm reached out and drew her face down, whispering “Good-night” with a kiss and “I love you, Cloudy Jewel,” in tender, thrilling tones.
The two big children were asleep at last, and Julia Cloud stole to her own bed to lie in a tumult of wonder and joy, and finally sink into a light slumber, wherein she dreamed that she had fallen heir to a rose-garden, and all the roses were alive and could talk; until Ellen came driving up in her Ford and ran right over them, crushing them down and cutting their heads off with a long, sharp whip she carried that somehow turned out to be made of words strung together with biting sarcasm.
She awoke in the broad morning sunlight to find both children done up in bath-robes and slippers, sitting one each side of her on the bed, laughing at her and tickling her chin with a feather from the seam of the pillow.
“Now, Cloudy Jewel, you’ve just got to begin to make plans!” announced Leslie, curling up in a ball at her feet and looking very business-like with her 38 fluffy curls around her face like a golden fleece. “There isn’t much time, and Guardy Lud will be down upon us by to-morrow or the next day at least.”
“Guardy Lud!” exclaimed Julia Cloud bewildered. “Who is that?”
“That’s our pet name for Mr. Luddington,” explained Leslie, wrinkling up her nose in a grin of merriment. “Isn’t it cute? Wait till you see him, and you’ll see how it fits. He’s round and bald with a shiny red nose, and spectacles; and he doesn’t mind our kidding at all. He’d have made a lovely father if he wasn’t married, but he has a horrid wife. We don’t like her at all. She’s like a frilly piece of French china with too much decoration; and she’s always sick and nervous; and she jumps, and says ‘Oh, mercy!’ every time we do the least little thing. She doesn’t like us any better than we like her. Her name is Alida, and Allison says we’re always trying to ‘elude’ her. The only good thing she ever did was to advise Guardy Lud to let us come East to college. She wanted to get us as far away from her as possible. And it certainly was mutual.”
“There, now, Leslie, you’re chattering again,” broke in Allison, looking very tall and efficient in his blue bath-robe. “You said you would talk business, and not bleat.”
“Well, so I am,” pouted Leslie. “I guess Cloudy has got to understand about our family.”
“Well, now let’s get down to business,” said her brother. “Cloudy, what have you got to do before you leave? You know it isn’t very long before the 39 colleges open, and we’ve got to start out and hunt a home right away. Do you have to pack up here or anything?”