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Page 14
"Pretty nearly always. But I'll hope for the best."
Mrs. Macauley went away with her head full of plans for the success of
the affair she was so sure ought to take place. It was difficult for her
to understand how Ellen, who had known so much of the best social life in
a city where there is no end to the round of formal entertaining, could
be now as indifferent as Martha understood she really was to all
experience of the sort. It was association with Redfield Pepper Burns
which had done it, Martha supposed. But was he to do all the influencing,
and Ellen to do none? It looked like it--to Martha.
Left alone with Bob, Ellen made him ready for the little village
kindergarten which he had lately begun to attend. Before he went he put
up both arms, and she bent to him.
"I'm going to be a pretty good boy to-day, Aunt Ellen," said he. "I
promised Uncle Red I would. But I don't like to skip in the circle with
girls. Why need I?"
"Would you rather skip with boys, dear?"
"Lots rather. But the girls keep asking me. Why do they, when I don't ask
them?"
Ellen smiled down into the questioning little face, its dark eyes looking
seriously up into hers through long and curly lashes. Bob was undoubtedly
a handsome little lad, and the reason why the girls--discerning small
creatures, true to their femininity--should be persistent in inviting him
to be their partner was obvious enough.
"Because that's part of the skipping game, Bobby. I'd ask the girls
sometimes--and, do you know, I think it would be fine to ask some of
the little girls whom the other boys don't ask. Do you know any?"
Bob considered. "I guess I do. But why do I have to ask them?"
"Because they're not having as much fun as the others. You wouldn't like
never to be asked by anybody, would you?"
"I don't care 'bout any girls ever asking me," Bob insisted stoutly. "I
like boy games better--'circus' and 'grandfather's barn.' Only they let
the girls play those too," he added, disgustedly.
He started away. But he came back again to say, soberly, "I'll ask Jennie
Hobson, if you want me to, Aunt Ellen. She's some like a boy, anyway. Her
hair's cut tight to her head--and her eyes are funny. They don't look at
you the same."
"Do ask her, Bob. And tell me how she liked it." And Ellen looked
affectionately after the small, straight little figure trudging away
down the street.
Martha's plans for her reception went on merrily. On the day set she came
hurrying over before breakfast, to administer to her brother-in-law a
final admonition concerning the coming evening.
"I hope this isn't going to be the busiest day of your life?" she urged
Burns.
"It's bound to be,--getting things clear for to-night," he assured her,
good-humouredly.
"Promise me you won't let anything short of a case of life or death keep
you away?"
"It's as serious as that, is it? All right, I'll be on hand, unless the
heavens fall."
He was good as his word, and at the appointed hour his hostess, keeping
an agitated watch on her neighbour's house, saw him arrive, in plenty of
time to dress. She drew a relieved breath.
"I didn't expect it," she said to James Macauley, her husband.
"Oh, Red's game. He won't run away from this, much as he hates it. Like
the rest of us married men, he knows when dodging positively won't do,"
and Macauley sighed as he settled his tie before the reception-room
mirror, obtaining a view of himself with some difficulty, on account of
the towering masses of flowers and foliage which obscured the glass.
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