The Getting of Wisdom | Page 4

the lovely silk dress was all dirty----"
"Wondrous Fair, if you don't mind you'll make that sheet dirty, too," said Pin.
"Shut up, will you!" answered her sister who, carried away by her narrative, had approached her boots to some linen that was bleaching.
"Yes, but you know Sarah'll be awfly cross if she has to wash it again," said Pin, who was practical.
"You'll put me out altogether," cried Laura angrily.--"Well, as I said, the edge of her robe was all muddy--no, I don't think I will say that; it sounds prettier if it's clean. So it hung in long, straight beautiful folds to her ankles, and the Prince saw two little feet in golden sandals peeping out from under the hem of the silken gown, and----"
"But what about the marks of travel?" asked Leppie.
"Donkey! haven't I said they weren't there? If I say they weren't, then they weren't. She hadn't travelled at all."
"Oh, parrakeets!" cried little Frank.
Four pairs of eyes went up to the bright green flock that was passing over the garden.
"Now you've all interrupted, and I shan't tell any more," said Laura in a proud voice.
"Oh, yes, please do, Wondrous Fair! Tell what happened next," begged Pin and Leppie.
"No, not another word. You can only think of sheets and parrakeets."
"Please, Wondrous Fair," begged little Frank.
"No, I can't now.--Another thing: I don't mind if you call me Laura to-day, as it's the last day."
She lay back on the grass, her hands clasped under her head. A voice was heard, loud, imperative.
"Laura, I want you. Come here."
"That's mother calling," said Pin.
Laura kicked her heels. The two little boys laughed approval.
"Go on, Laura," coaxed Pin. "Mother'll be angry. I'll come, too."
Laura raised herself with a grumble. "It's to try on that horrid dress."
In very fact Mother was standing, already somewhat impatient, with the dress in her hand. Laura wriggled out of the one she had on, and stood stiffly and ungraciously, with her arms held like pokers from her sides, while Mother on her knees arranged the length.
"Don't put on a face like that, miss!" she said sharply on seeing Laura's air. "Do you think I'm making it for my own pleasure?" She had sewn at it all day, and was hot and tired.
"It's too short," said Laura, looking down.
"It's nothing of the kind," said Mother, with her mouth full of pins.
"It is, it's much too short."
Mother gave her a slight shake. "Don't you contradict ME! Do you want to tell me I don't know what length you're to wear your dresses?"
"I won't wear it at all if you don't make it longer," said Laura defiantly.
Pin's chubby, featureless little face lengthened with apprehension.
"Do let her have it just a tiny bit longer, mother dear, dear!" she pleaded.
"Now, Pin, what have you got to do with it I'd like to know!" said Mother, on the verge of losing her temper over the back folds, which WOULD not hang.
"I'm going to school to-morrow, and it's a shame," said Laura in the low, passionate tone that never failed to exasperate Mother, so different was it from her own hearty fashion of venting displeasure. Pin began to sniff, in sheer nervous anxiety.
"Very well then, I won't do another stitch to it!" and Mother, now angry in earnest, got up and bounced out of the room.
"Laura, how can you?" said Pin, dissolving. "It's only you who make her so cross."
"I don't care," said Laura rebelliously, though she was not far off tears herself. "It IS a shame. All the other girls will have dresses down to the tops of their boots, and they'll laugh at me, and call me a [P.4] baby;" and touched by the thought of what lay before her, she, too, began to sniffle. She did not fail, however, to roll the dress up and to throw it unto a corner of the room. She also kicked the ewer, which fell over and flooded the floor. Pin cried more loudly, and ran to fetch Sarah.
Laura returned to the garden. The two little boys came up to her; but she waved them back.
"Let me alone, children. I want to think."
She stood in a becoming attitude by the garden-gate, her brothers hovering in the background.--Then Mother called once more.
"Laura, where are you?"
"Here, mother. What is it?"
"Did you knock this jug over or did Pin?"
"I did, mother."
"Did you do it on purpose?"
"Yes."
"Come here to me."
She went, with lagging steps. But Mother's anger had passed: she was at work on the dress again, and by squinting her eyes Laura could see that a piece was being added to the skirt. She was penitent at once; and when Mother in a sorry voice said: "I'm ashamed of you, Laura. And on your last day, too," her throat grew narrow.
"I didn't mean it, mother."
"If only you would ask properly for things,