Muffs ran to her and put her arms around her neck. “What’s the matter, Mother?” she asked. “Did it make you dizzy to play the games?”
“No, dear,” Mrs. Moffet replied, rising to her feet in a hurry. “But we must go, dear. We must go quickly! We must take the next train.”
“And miss the party!”
“Would you mind very much if we missed the party?”
Muffs stared at her mother without answering. She couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mother knew she’d mind and she had said they could take a later train. Then Mrs. Tyler saw that something was wrong and came hurrying along the grass with baby Ellen snatching at timothy heads as they passed and calling, “Pitty pussy. Want pitty pussy.”
Muffs spoke in a voice that was full of bewilderment. “Mother says I must go home. She says I must go home and miss the party.”
“Really, Mrs. Moffet,” Mrs. Tyler said, “hadn’t you better think it over a little longer? You’re welcome to stay with us and besides—it isn’t fair to Muffs.”
There was a long silence.
“No,” she said finally, lifting her head and looking into her little girl’s anxious face. “I guess it isn’t. Run along, dear, and have a good time. Don’t mind me. I’ve just got a headache.”
“We’ll ask the Bramble Bush Man what’s good for headaches,” said Muffins brightly. “I forgot to tell you, Mother, but the headless man knows him and he really is wondrous wise and we’re going to meet him today. Look! Everybody is going into the grange hall. Mr. Tyler is calling them.”