"And Mrs. Allen said I might stay and
come home with Jim and--"
"That will do," cut in mother severely. "You've taken advantage of
me, Missy. And don't let me hear evening party from you again this
summer!"
The import of this dreadful dictum did not penetrate fully to
Missy's consciousness. She was too confused in her emotions, just
then, to think clearly of anything.
"Go up to bed," said mother.
"May I put my flowers in water first?"
"Yes, but be quick about it."
Missy would have liked to carry the flowers up to her own room, to
sleep there beside her while she slept, but mother wouldn't
understand and there would be questions which she didn't know how to
answer.
Mother was offended with her. Dimly she felt unhappy about that, but
she was too happy to be definitely unhappy. Anyway, mother followed
to unfasten her dress, to help take down her hair, to plait the
mouse-coloured braids. She wanted to be alone, yet she liked the
touch of mother's hands, unusually gentle and tender. Why was mother
gentle and tender with her when she was offended?
At last mother kissed her good night, and she was alone in her
little bed.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141