“Yes, but Stasy,” said Blanche, “I was trembling for fear she should find out that you were making fun of her, when you proposed a— What is it, Aline?” she said, as the maid came out with the tea-tray, which she hastily deposited on a garden seat.
“Some one is at the front door,” replied Aline. “The bell rang as I left the kitchen. Will mademoiselle excuse my leaving the tray there? I must answer the door, for that stupid little girl has not yet dressed herself,” and she hastened off.
Just at that moment Herty put his face out at the glass door, which was slightly ajar.
“Where is Aline?” he said. “She promised I was to help her to carry out the tea things.”
“She has gone to open the door,” said Blanche. “She will be back in a moment. Come out here and help us to lay the table.—We may as well, Stasy,” she said to her sister; “the tray is not very secure on that chair.”
She began unfolding the little table-cloth which Aline had brought out.
“Herty must have run to the door,” said Stasy with some annoyance. “I am afraid he is getting rather common in his ways, Blanche, now that we live so plainly. I think we must be more particular with him. It does seem so vulgar for a child to be peeping out to see who is at the door.”
“I doubt if Herty will content himself with peeping,” said Blanche. “I wonder if all little boys are as inquisitive as he is.”
At that moment Herty’s shrill voice was heard in eager excitement.
“Blanchie, Blanchie,” he cried; “Stasy—somebody’s come to see you.—Come along, do,” he added to some one, as yet invisible in the drawing-room. “We’re going to have tea in the garden; won’t it be jolly? You’re just in time.”