“What a lark!” she cried. “Well, and what did the poor little Miss Misery do?”
“I had to put on an old dirty shirt, the only one I could find. Aunt Sophia gave me no end of a lecture this morning. She says I am to wear my new blouse to-night or she’ll know the reason why. Of course, I can’t wear it.”
“Then you can’t have any dinner?”
“I am absolutely beside myself to know what to do,” said Pauline. “Sometimes I think I’ll go to bed and pretend I have got a headache. Oh, dear, what a bad girl I am turning into!”
Nancy laughed again.
“It is sometimes very tiresome to develop a conscience,” she said. “You were a much nicer girl before that grand aunt of yours arrived to turn things topsy-turvy. As to the midnight picnic, you must come. I have made a bet on the subject. Jack and Tom say you won’t come—that you will be afraid. ‘Pauline Dale afraid! That’s all you know about her,’ says I. I have assured them that you will come whatever happens, and they have said you won’t. So the end of it is that Tom, Jack, and I have made a bet about it. It is ten shillings’ worth either way. If you come, I get three beautiful pairs of gloves. If you don’t come, I give the boys ten shillings. Now you see how important it is. Why, Paulie, of course you will come! We are going to have a right-down jolly time, for father is so tickled with the notion that he is coming, too; and he says he will give us a real good lark. And we are going to Friar’s Oak, eight miles away; and we are to take hampers full of dainties. And Fiddler Joe will come with us to play for us; and there’s a beautiful green-sward just under the beech-trees by Friar’s Oak, and there we’ll dance by the full light of the moon. Oh, you must come! I told father you were coming, and he was awfully pleased—as pleased as Punch—and he said:
“‘That’s right, my girl; that’s right, Nancy. If the Dales stick to me through thick and thin, I’ll stick to them.’
“You know, Pauline, you have always been at our fun before; so, aunt or no aunt, you can’t fail us now.”
“I’d like to go beyond anything,” said Pauline, who felt intensely tempted by this description. “It is so horrible to be pulled up short. But I know I can’t, so there’s no use thinking about it.”
“You needn’t answer me now. I’ll come back again. This is Friday night. I’ll come back on Monday night. The picnic is arranged for Wednesday night. Listen, Paulie; you will have to change your mind, for if you don’t—well!”