The Story Girl - Part 8

"The Story Girl" is a 1911 novel by Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery (also the author of "Anne of Green Gables" and "The Blue Castle").

"The Story Girl" narrates the delightful adventures of a group of young cousins and their friends in a rural farming community on Prince Edward Island, Canada.

The children's own adventures are interwoven with the fascinating storytelling of the precocious, 14-year-old protagonist, Sara Stanley - known to everyone locally as "The Story Girl"...enjoy!

Transcript

Hello there.

Thank you so much for listening to this continued reading of The Story Girl,

Which is a charming novel from 1911 by the Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery,

Who was best known for her work Anne of Green Gables.

Perhaps you've heard the preceding parts of The Story Girl.

If not,

It really doesn't matter.

If you would like to hear the other parts,

You can look for the playlist for The Story Girl.

But for now,

Let's take a moment here to have a nice,

Deep exhale.

Letting go of the day.

Letting go of whichever baggage we might be bringing along with us into this moment.

For right now,

There's nowhere else that we have to be and nothing else that we have to be doing.

So,

We can just relax,

Get ourselves comfortable and enjoy the lovely tale of The Story Girl.

Chapter 15.

A Disobedient Brother.

Dan was his own man again in the morning.

Though rather pale and weak,

He wanted to get up,

But Cecily ordered him to stay in bed.

Fortunately,

Felicity forgot to repeat the command,

So Dan did stay in bed.

Cecily carried his meals to him and read a henty book to him all her spare time.

The Story Girl went up and told him wondrous tales.

And Sarah Ray brought him a pudding she had made herself.

Sarah's intentions were good,

But the pudding.

.

.

Well,

Dan fed most of it to Paddy,

Who had curled himself up at the foot of the bed,

Giving the world assurance of a cat by his mellifluous purring.

Ain't he just a great old fellow,

Said Dan.

He knows I'm kind of sick,

Just as well as a human.

He never pays no attention to me when I'm well.

Felix and Peter and I were required to help Uncle Roger in some carpentering work that day,

And Felicity indulged in one of the house-cleaning orgies so dear to her soul,

So that it was evening before we were all free to meet in the orchard and lull on the grasses of Uncle Stephen's walk.

In August,

It was a place of shady sweetness,

Fragrant with the odour of ripening apples,

Full of dear,

Delicate shadows.

Through its openings we looked afar,

To the blue rims of the hills,

And over green,

Old,

Tranquil fields,

Lying the sunset glow.

Overhead,

The lacing leaves made a green,

Murmurous roof.

There was no such thing as hurry in the world.

While we lingered there and talked of cabbages and kings,

A tale of the story-girls,

Wherein princes were thicker than blackberries,

And queens as common as buttercups led to our discussion of kings,

We wondered what it would be like to be a king.

Peter thought it would be fine,

Only kind of inconvenient wearing a crown all the time.

Oh,

But they don't,

Said the story-girl.

Maybe they used to once,

But now they wear hats.

The crowns are just for special occasions.

They look very much like other people,

If you can go by their photographs.

I don't believe it would be much fun as a steady thing,

Said Cecily.

I'd like to see a queen though.

That is one thing I have against the island.

You never have a chance to see things like that here.

The Prince of Wales was in Charlottetown once,

Said Peter.

My Aunt Jane saw him quite close by.

That was before we were born.

And such a thing won't happen again until after we're dead,

Said Cecily with very unusual pessimism.

I think queens and kings were thicker long ago,

Said the story-girl.

They do seem dreadfully scarce now.

There isn't one in this country anywhere.

Perhaps I'll get a glimpse of some when I go to Europe.

Well,

The story-girl was destined to stand before kings herself.

And she was to be one whom they delighted to honour.

But we did not know that.

As we sat in the old orchard,

We thought it quite sufficiently marvellous that she should expect to have the chance of just seeing them.

Can a queen do exactly as she pleases?

Sarah Ray wanted to know.

Not nowadays,

Explained the story-girl.

Then I don't see any use in being one,

Sarah decided.

A king can't do as he pleases now either,

Said Felix,

If he tries to.

And if it isn't what pleases other people,

The parliament or something squelches him.

Isn't squelch a lovely word,

Said the story-girl irrelevantly.

It's so expressive.

Squelch.

Certainly it was a lovely word as the story-girl said it.

Even a king would not have minded being squelched if it were done to music like that.

Uncle Roger says that Martin Forbes' wife has squelched him,

Said Felicity.

He says Martin can't call his soul his own since he was married.

I'm glad of it,

Said Cecily vindictively.

We all stared.

This was so very unlike Cecily.

Martin Forbes is the brother of a horrid man in Somerside who called me Johnny.

That's why,

She explained.

He was visiting here with his wife two years ago and he called me Johnny every time he spoke to me.

Just you fancy.

I'll never forgive him.

That isn't a Christian spirit,

Said Felicity rebukingly.

I don't care.

Would you forgive James Forbes if he had called you Johnny,

Demanded Cecily.

I know a story about Martin Forbes' grandfather,

Said the story-girl.

Long ago,

They didn't have any choir in the Carlisle church.

Just a presenter,

You know.

But at last they got a choir and Andrew Macpherson was to sing bass in it.

Old Mr Forbes hadn't gone to church for years because he was so rheumatic.

But he went the first Sunday the choir sang because he had never heard anyone sing bass and wanted to hear what it was like.

Grandfather King asked him what he thought of the choir.

Mr Forbes said it was very good.

But as for Andrew's bass,

There was no bass about it.

That was just a brrrr,

The heel tame.

If you could have heard the story-girl's brrrr,

Not old Mr Forbes himself could have invested it with more of Doric scorn.

We rolled over in the cool grass and screamed with laughter.

Poor Dan,

Said Cecily compassionately.

He's up there all alone in his room,

Missing all the fun.

I suppose it's mean of us to be having such a good time here when he has to stay in bed.

If Dan hadn't done wrong eating the bad berries when he was told not to,

He wouldn't be sick,

Said Felicity.

You're bound to catch it when you do wrong.

It was just a providence he didn't die.

That makes me think of another story about old Mr Scott,

Said the story-girl.

You know,

I told you he was very angry because the presbytery made him retire.

There were two ministers in particular he blamed for being at the bottom of it.

One time a friend of his was trying to console him and said to him,

You should be resigned to the will of providence.

Providence had nothing to do with it,

Said old Mr Scott.

T'was the McCloskeys and the devil.

You shouldn't speak of the devil,

Said Felicity,

Rather shocked.

Well,

That's just what Mr Scott said.

Oh,

It's all right for a minister to speak of him,

But it isn't nice for little girls.

If you have to speak of him,

You might say the old scratch.

That is what mother calls him.

T'was the McCloskeys and the old scratch,

Said the story-girl,

Reflectively,

As if she were trying to see which version was the more effective.

It wouldn't do,

She decided.

I don't think it's any harm to mention the,

The,

That person when you're telling a story,

Said Cecily.

It's only in plain talking.

It doesn't do.

It sounds too much like swearing then.

I know another story about Mr Scott,

Said the story-girl.

Not long after he was married,

His wife wasn't quite ready for church one morning when it was time to go.

So just to teach her a lesson,

He drove off alone and left her to walk all the way.

It was nearly two miles in the heat and dust.

She took it very quietly.

It's the best way,

I guess,

When you're married to a man like old Mr Scott.

But just a few Sundays after,

Wasn't he late himself?

I suppose Mrs Scott thought that what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander,

For she slipped out and drove off to church,

As he had done.

Old Mr Scott finally arrived at the church,

Pretty hot and dusty and in none too good a temper.

He went into the pulpit,

Leaned over it and looked at his wife,

Sitting calmly in her pew at the side.

It was cleverly done,

He said right out loud,

But dinna tray it again.

In the midst of our laughter,

Pat came down the walk,

His stately tail waving over the grasses.

He proved to be the precursor of Dan,

Clothed and in his right mind.

Do you think you should have got up,

Dan,

Said Cecily anxiously.

I had to,

Said Dan.

The window was open and it was more than I could stand to hear you fellows laughing down here and me missing it all.

Besides,

I'm all right again.

I feel fine.

I guess this will be a lesson to you,

Dan King,

Said Felicity in her most maddening tone.

I guess you won't forget it in a hurry.

You won't go eating the bad berries another time when you're told not to.

Dan had picked out a soft spot in the grass for himself and was in the act of sitting down when Felicity's tactful speech arrested him midway.

He straightened up and turned a wrathful face on his provoking sister,

Then read with indignation.

But without a word,

He stalked up the walk.

Now he's gone off mad,

Said Cecily reproachfully.

Felicity,

Why couldn't you have held your tongue?

Why,

What did I say to make him mad,

Asked Felicity in honest perplexity.

I think it's awful for brothers and sisters to be always quarrelling,

Sighed Cecily.

The Coens fight all the time and you and Dan will soon be as bad.

Oh,

Talk sense,

Said Felicity.

Dan's got so touchy it isn't safe to speak to him.

I should think he'd be sorry for all the trouble he made last night.

But you just back him up in everything,

Cecily.

Why don't you do?

And you've no business to,

Especially when Mother's away.

She left me in charge.

You didn't take much charge last night when Dan got sick,

Said Felix maliciously.

Felicity had told him at tea that night he was getting fatter than ever.

This was his tit for tat.

You were pretty glad to leave it all to Cecily then.

Who's talking to you,

Said Felicity.

Now,

Look here,

Said the Story Girl.

The first thing we know we'll all be quarrelling.

And then some of us will sulk all day tomorrow.

It's dreadful to spoil a whole day.

Just let's all sit still and count a hundred before we say another word.

We sat still and counted the hundred.

When Cecily finished,

She got up and went in search of Dan,

Resolved to soothe his wounded feelings.

Felicity called after her to tell Dan there was a jam turnover she had put away in the pantry specially for him.

Felix held out to Felicity a remarkably fine apple which he had been saving for his own consumption.

And the Story Girl began a tale of an enchanted maiden in a castle by the sea.

But we never heard the end of it for just as the evening star was looking wightly through the rosy window of the west,

Cecily came flying through the orchard wringing her hands.

Oh,

Come,

Come quick,

She gasped.

Dan's eating the bad berries again.

He's ate a whole bunch of them.

He says he'll show Felicity.

I can't stop him.

Come you and try.

We rose in a body and rushed towards the house.

In the yard,

We encountered Dan emerging from the firwood and champing the fatal berries with unrepentant relish.

Dan King,

Do you want to commit suicide?

Demanded the Story Girl.

Look here,

Dan.

I expostulated.

You shouldn't do this.

Think how sick you were last night and all the trouble you made for everybody.

Don't eat any more.

There's a good chap.

All right,

Said Dan.

I've ate all I want.

They taste fine.

I don't believe it was them made me sick.

But now that his anger was over,

He looked a little frightened.

Felicity was not there.

We found her in the kitchen lighting up the fire.

Bev filled the kettle with water and put it on to heat,

She said in a resigned tone.

If Dan's going to be sick again,

We've got to be ready for it.

I wish mother was home.

That's all.

I hope she'll never go away again.

Dan King,

You just wait till I tell her of the way you've acted.

Fudge.

I ain't going to be sick,

Said Dan.

And if you begin telling tales,

Felicity King,

I'll tell some too.

I know how many eggs mother said you could use while she was away.

And I know how many you have used.

I counted.

So,

You'd better mind your own business,

Miss.

A nice way to talk to your sister when you may be dead in an hour's time,

Retorted Felicity in tears between her anger and her real alarm about Dan.

But in an hour's time,

Dan was still in good health and announced his intention of going to bed.

He went and was soon sleeping as peacefully as if he had nothing on either conscience or stomach.

But Felicity declared she meant to keep the water hot until all danger was past.

And we sat up to keep her company.

We were sitting there when Uncle Roger walked in at eleven o'clock.

What on earth are you,

Young fry,

Doing up at this time of night?

He asked angrily.

You should have been in your beds two hours ago.

And with a roaring fire on a night that's hot enough to melt a brass monkey,

Have you taken leave of your senses?

It's because of Dan,

Explained Felicity wearily.

He went and ate more of the bad berries.

A whole lot of them.

And we were sure he'd be sick again.

But he hasn't been yet,

And now he's asleep.

Is that boy stark,

Staring mad?

Said Uncle Roger.

It was Felicity's fault,

Cried Cecily,

Who always took Dan's part through evil report and good report.

She told him she guessed he'd learned a lesson and wouldn't do what she'd told him not to again.

So he went and ate them because she vexed him so.

Felicity King.

If you don't watch out,

You'll grow up into the sort of woman who drives her husband to drink,

Said Uncle Roger gravely.

How could I tell Dan would act so like a mule,

Cried Felicity.

Get off to bed.

Every one of you.

It's a thankful man I'll be when your father and mother come home.

The wretched bachelor who undertakes to look after a house full of children like you is to be pitied.

Nobody will ever catch me doing it again.

Felicity,

Is there anything fit to eat in the pantry?

That last question was the most unkindest cut of all.

Felicity could have forgiven Uncle Roger anything but that.

It really was unpardonable.

She confided to me as we climbed the stairs that she hated Uncle Roger.

Her red lips quivered and the tears of wounded pride brimmed over in her beautiful blue eyes.

In the dim candlelight,

She looked unbelievably pretty and appealing.

I put my arm about her and gave her a cousinly salute.

Never you mind him,

Felicity,

I said.

He's only a grown-up.

Friday was a comfortable day in the household of King.

Everybody was in good humour.

The story girl sparkled through several tales that ranged from the affrights and gins of Eastern myth through the piping days of chivalry down to the homely anecdotes of Carlisle workaday folks.

She was in turn an oriental princess behind a silken veil.

The bride who followed her bridegroom to the wars of Palestine disguised as a page.

The gallant lady who ransomed her diamond necklace by dancing a caranto with a highwayman on a moonlit heath.

And Buskirk's girl who joined the sons and daughters of temperance just to see what was into it.

And in each impersonation,

She was so thoroughly the thing impersonated that it was a matter of surprise to us when she emerged from each our own familiar story girl again.

Cecily and Sarah Ray found a sweet new knitted lace pattern in an old magazine and spent a happy afternoon learning it and talking secrets.

Chancing,

Accidentally I vow,

To overhear certain of these secrets I learned that Sarah Ray had named an apple for Johnny Price and Cecily,

Truce you live,

There was eight seeds in it and you know eight means they both love while Cecily admitted that Willie Fraser had written on his slate and showed it to her if you love me as I love you,

No knife can cut our love in two but Sarah Ray,

Never you breathe this to a living soul.

Felix also averred that he heard Sarah ask Cecily very seriously Cecily,

How old must we be before we can have a real bow?

But Sarah always denied it so I am inclined to believe Felix simply made it up himself Paddy distinguished himself by catching a rat and being intolerably conceited about it until Sarah Ray cured him by calling him a dear sweet cat and kissing him between the ears then Pat sneaked abjectly off,

His tail drooping he resented being called a sweet cat he had a sense of humour,

Had Pat very few cats have,

And most of them have such an inordinate appetite for flattery that they will swallow any amount of it and thrive thereon Paddy had a finer taste The Story Girl and I were the only ones who could pay him compliments to his liking The Story Girl would box his ears with her fist and say bless your grey heart Paddy,

You're a good sort of old rascal and Pat would purr his satisfaction I used to take a handful of the skin on his back,

Shake him gently and say Pat,

You've forgotten more than any human being ever knew and I vow Paddy would lick his chops with delight but to be called a sweet cat ugh,

Sarah Sarah Felicity tried and had the most gratifying luck with a new and complicated cake recipe a gorgeous compound of a plumminess to make your mouth water the number of eggs she used in it would have shocked Aunt Janet's thrifty soul but that cake,

Like beauty,

Was its own excuse Uncle Roger ate three slices of it at tea time and told Felicity she was an artist the poor man meant it as a compliment but Felicity,

Who knew Uncle Blair was an artist and had a poor opinion of such fry looked indignant and retorted indeed she wasn't Peter says there's any amount of raspberries back in the maple clearing said Dan,

Supposing we all go after tea and pick some I'd like to,

Sighed Felicity but we'd come home tired and with all the milking to do you boys better go alone Peter and I will attend to the milking for one evening,

Said Uncle Roger you can all go I have an idea that a raspberry pie for tomorrow night when the folks come home would hit the right spot accordingly,

After tea,

We all set off armed with jugs and cups Felicity,

Thoughtful creature,

Also took a small basket of jelly cookies along with her we had to go back through the maple woods to the extreme end of Uncle Roger's farm a pretty walk through a world of green whispering boughs and spice sweet ferns and shifting patches of sunlight the raspberries were plentiful and we were not long in filling our receptacles then we four gathered around a tiny wood spring cold and pellucid under its young maples and ate the jelly cookies and the story girl told us a tale of a haunted spring in a mountain glen where a fair white lady dwelt who pledged all comers in a golden cup with jewels bright and if you drank of the cup with her,

Said the story girl her eyes glowing through the emerald dusk about us you were never seen in the world again you were whisked straightway to fairyland and lived there with a fairy bride and you never wanted to come back to earth because when you drank of the magic cup you forgot all your past life except for one day in every year when you were allowed to remember it I wish there was such a place as fairyland and a way to get to it,

Said Cecily I think there is such a place in spite of Uncle Edward,

Said the story girl dreamily and I think there is a way of getting there too if we could only find it well,

The story girl was right there is such a place as fairyland but only children can find the way to it and they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown so old that they forget the way one bitter day when they seek it and cannot find it they realise what they have lost and that is the tragedy of life on that day the gates of Eden are shut behind them and the age of gold is over henceforth they must dwell in the common light of common day only a few who remain children at heart can ever find that fair lost path again and blessed are they above mortals they,

And only they can bring us tidings from that dear country where we once sojourned and from which we must evermore be exiles the world calls them its singers and poets and artists and storytellers but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland as we sat there the awkward man passed by with his gun over his shoulder and his dog at his side he did not look like an awkward man there in the heart of the maple woods he strode along right masterfully and lifted his head with the air of one who was monarch of all he surveyed the story girl kissed her fingertips to him with the delightful audacity which was a part of her and the awkward man plucked off his hat and swept her a stately and graceful bow I don't understand why they call him the awkward man said Cecily when he was out of earshot you'd understand why if you ever saw him at a party or a picnic said Felicity trying to pass plates and dropping them whenever a woman looked at him they say it's pitiful to see him I must get well acquainted with that man next summer said the story girl if I put it off any longer it will be too late I'm growing so fast Aunt Olivia says I'll have to wear ankle skirts next summer if I begin to look grown up he'll get frightened of me and then I'll never find out the golden milestone mystery do you think he'll ever tell you who Alice is?

I asked I have a notion who Alice is already said the mysterious creature but she would tell us nothing more when the jelly cookies were all eaten it was high time to be moving homeward for when the dark comes down there are more comfortable places than a rustling maple wood and the precincts of a possibly enchanted spring when we reached the foot of the orchard and entered it through a gap in the hedge it was the magical mystical time of between lights off to the west was a daffodil glow hanging over the valley of lost sunsets and Grandfather King's huge willow rose up against it like a rounded mountain of foliage in the east above the maple woods was a silvery sheen that hinted the moonrise but the orchard was a place of shadows and mysterious sounds midway up the open space in its heart we met Peter and if ever a boy was given over to sheer terror that boy was Peter his face was as white as a sunburned face could be and his eyes were brimmed with panic Peter,

What is the matter?

Cried Cecily there's something in the house ringing a bell said Peter in a shaking voice not the story girl herself could have invested that something with more of creepy horror we all drew close together I felt a crinkly feeling along my back which I had never known before if Peter had not been so manifestly frightened we might have thought he was trying to pass a joke on us but such abject terror as his could not be counterfeited nonsense said Felicity but her voice shook there isn't a bell in the house to ring you must have imagined it Peter or else Uncle Roger is trying to fool us your Uncle Roger went to Markdale right after milking said Peter he locked up the house and gave me the key there wasn't a soul in it then that I'm sure of I drove the cows to the pasture and I got back about 15 minutes ago I sat down on the front doorsteps for a moment and all at once I heard a bell ring in the house eight times I tell you I was scared I made a bolt for the orchard and you won't catch me going near that house till your Uncle Roger comes home you wouldn't catch any of us doing it we were almost as badly scared as Peter there we stood in a huddled demoralised group oh what an eerie place that orchard was what shadows what noises what spooky swooping of bats you couldn't look every way at once and goodness only knew what might be behind you there can't be anybody in the house said Felicity well here's the key go and see for yourself said Peter Felicity had no intention of going and seeing I think you boys ought to go she said retreating behind the defence of sex you ought to be braver than girls but we ain't said Felix candidly I wouldn't be much scared of anything real but a haunted house is a different thing I always thought something had to be done in a place before it could be haunted said Cecily somebody killed or something like that you know nothing like that ever happened in our family the kings have always been respectable perhaps it is Emily King's ghost whispered Felix she never appeared anywhere but in the orchard said the story girl oh oh children isn't there something under Uncle Alec's tree we appeared fearfully through the gloom there was something something that wavered and fluttered advanced retreated that's only my old apron said Felicity I hung it there today when I was looking for the white hen's nest oh what shall we do Uncle Roger may not be back for hours I can't believe there's anything in the house maybe it's only Peg Bowen suggested Dan there was not a great deal of comfort in this we were almost as much afraid of Peg Bowen as we would be of any spectral visitant Peter scoffed at the idea Peg Bowen wasn't in the house before your Uncle Roger locked it up and how could she get in afterwards he said no it isn't Peg Bowen it's something that walks I know a story about a ghost said the story girl the ruling passion strong even in extremity it is about a ghost with eye holes but no eyes don't cried Cecily hysterically don't you go on don't you say another word I can't bear it don't you the story girl didn't but she had said enough there was something in the quality of a ghost with eye holes but no eyes that froze our young blood there never were in all the world six more badly scared children than those who huddled in the old king orchard that August night all at once something leapt from the bow of a tree and alighted before us we split the air with a simultaneous shriek we would have run one and all if there had been anywhere to run to but there wasn't all around us were only those shadowy arcades then we saw with shame that it was only our paddy pat pat I said picking him up feeling a certain comfort in his soft solid body stay with us old fellow but pat would none of us he struggled out of my clasp and disappeared over the long grasses with soundless leaps he was no longer our tame domestic well acquainted paddy he was a strange furtive animal a questing beast presently the moon rose but this only made matters worse the shadows had been still before now they moved and danced as the night wind tossed the boughs the old house with its dreadful secret was white and clear against the dark background of spruces we were woefully tired but we could not sit down because the grass was reeking with dew the family ghost only appears in daylight said the story girl I wouldn't mind seeing a ghost in daylight but after dark is another thing there's no such thing as a ghost I said contemptuously oh how I wished I could believe it then what rung that bell said Peter bells don't ring of themselves I suppose especially when there ain't any in the house to ring oh will Uncle Roger never come home sobbed Felicity I know he'll laugh at us awful but it's better to be laughed at than scared like this Uncle Roger did not come until nearly ten never was there a more welcome sound than the rumble of his wheels in the lane we ran to the orchard gate swarmed across the yard just as Uncle Roger alighted at the front door he stared at us in the moonlight have you tormented anyone into eating more bad berries Felicity he demanded oh Uncle Roger don't go in implored Felicity seriously there's something dreadful in there something that rings a bell Peter heard it don't go in there's no use asking the meaning of this I suppose said Uncle Roger with the calm of despair I've gave up trying to fathom you young ones Peter where's the key what yarn have you been telling I did hear a bell ring said Peter stubbornly Uncle Roger unlocked and flung open the front door as he did so clear and sweet rang out ten bell like chimes that's what I heard cried Peter there's the bell we had to wait until Uncle Roger stopped laughing before we heard the explanation we thought he never would stop that's Grandfather King's old clock striking he said as soon as he was able to speak Sammy Pratt came along after tea when you were away to the forge Peter and I gave him permission to clean the old clock he had it going merrily in no time and now it has almost frightened you poor little monkeys to death we heard Uncle Roger chuckling all the way to the barn Uncle Roger can laugh said Cecily with a quiver in her voice but it's no laughing matter to be so scared I just feel sick I was so frightened I wouldn't mind if he'd laugh once and have it done with it said Felicity bitterly but he'll laugh at us for a year and tell the story to every soul that comes to the place you can't blame him for that said the story girl I shall tell it too I don't care if the joke is as much on myself as anyone a story is a story no matter who it's on but it is hateful to be laughed at and grown-ups always do it I never will when I'm grown up I'll remember better it's all Peter's fault said Felicity I do think he might have had more sense than to take a clock striking for a bell ringing I never heard that kind of a strike before protested Peter it don't sound a bit like other clocks and the door was shut and the sound kind of muffled it's all very fine to say you would have known what it was but I don't believe you would I wouldn't have said the story girl honestly I thought it was a bell when I heard it and the door opened too let us be fair Felicity I'm dreadful tired sighed Cecily we were all dreadful tired for this was the third night of late hours and nerve-wracking strain but it was over two hours since we had eaten the cookies and Felicity suggested that a saucerful apiece of raspberries and cream would not be hard to take it was not for anyone but Cecily who couldn't swallow a mouthful I'm glad father and mother will be back tomorrow night she said it's too exciting when they're away that's my opinion

Reviews

They are so so excited for parents to come home!! Thank you ❤️🙏🏼

Loved it as usual! Home sick today and I am so grateful for you as I actually fell asleep.