“No, you cannot!”
“Yes, I can!”
“Well, try then! But when I am big I shall marry a very rich American and I shall go away with him to America, and I shall send a whole ship full of money back to mother, so that she will not need your stupid old books.”
“No one will ever marry you,” put in Iason, “you are too cross!”
“Yes, they will, I tell you!”
“I know!” cried the little boy, Nikias; “I know why she is so sure, because she has taught Katerina when she finishes washing her hair instead of wishing her as she always used to, ‘And a fine bridegroom some day,’ to say ‘And an American!’ I know because I heard her when I was waiting my turn for the bath in mother’s room!”
There was loud laughter and Andromache flew at Nikias with tooth and nail for telling overheard secrets, and the struggle which ensued, and at which Pavlo looked on in secret dismay, was Homeric. Traces of it were visible at lunch time but were attributed to “playing soldiers.” The Four of the Red House were not tell-tales; that is one good thing I can say of them.
After lunch they were condemned to afternoon rest. The reason given being that Pavlo had been up so early, and they trooped sadly upstairs; but Iason, who was nothing if not inventive, comforted them.
“When they are all asleep, you girls come into our room and we will take all the sheets off the beds and fix them up with broom handles and pretend we are deserters in a cave and soldiers coming after them.”
The sheets, with the aid of the broom handles and sundry wooden clothes pegs, which Andromache managed to secure by a barefooted expedition to the wash house, made a splendid cave, but the triumphant discovery of the deserters by the soldiers was a little noisy, and the mother of the Four coming unexpectedly on the scene, wisely chose the lesser of two evils, and turned them all out of doors quite early in the afternoon while the soft wind was still blowing,—the soft sweet sea “batti”[14] that makes a swish, swish in the pine branches and shakes down the geranium petals from the stone vases on the terrace; that blows coolly in one’s face while all the grown-ups are stupidly lying down for afternoon sleeps.