"Oh! well, I will mend them for you when I've got time."
"Faith said she would when she'd got time, but when she'd got time she hadn't got any tape, and when we remembered to buy some tape we couldn't find a bodkin. Where does one buy bodkins, Audrey?"
"I don't know, but I have two in my work-box. I will put in the tapes for you. Now run down while I turn out the beds. Oh no, come here," as the pair went dashing away, "come and fold up your nightgowns, you should never leave them lying on the floor like that. Who do you think is going to fold them for you? I believe you never think of the trouble you give."
Tom and Debby went back patiently, and picking up their offending garments, struggled with them valiantly. But, however careful they were, it seemed as though one sleeve would hang out, or the folds would go crooked, simply for the purpose of aggravating two impatient little people.
"I wish we didn't have sleeves," sighed Deborah.
"Let's cut them off," cried Tom, and in a spirit of mischief, picked up a pair of scissors and pretended to cut the sleeve.
He was only pretending, but Audrey misunderstood, and, with a sharp slap on the hands, sent the scissors skimming across the floor.
The unexpectedness of the blow, the pain, and the indignity, roused Tom to real anger, and for a few moments there was an ugly scene. Debby cried, Tom raged, and Audrey scolded. "You can fold the old thing yourself," cried Tom, flinging out of the room. Audrey dragged him back.
"I shall not, you shall do it yourself if you have to stay here all day. I shall speak to father about your behaviour, and I do think you might have tried to behave decently and not have made such a noise when Joan is ill, and we want her to sleep. You think of no one but yourselves—you two."
"Joan ill! You might have told us before. How were we to know? and—and you were making more noise than anybody, and—and it was all your fault in the beginning," cried Tom. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself Audrey, you are the eldest, and—and you knew Joan was ill."