Flittin' up the 'all like a shadder, 'e was. Oh, lor! It's fairly
turned me inside! Oh, lor!"
"What rubbish!" said William's mother. "Emma, you must control
yourself!"
"I went into the larder myself 'm," said cook indignantly, "just
before I came in to 'elp with the greenery ornaments, and it was
hempty as--hair. It's all that silly Emma! Always 'avin' the jumps,
she is----"
"Where's William?" said William's mother with sudden suspicion.
"William!"
William came out of his bedroom and looked over the balusters.
"Yes, mother," he said, with that wondering innocence of voice and
look which he had brought to a fine art, and which proved one of his
greatest assets in times of stress and strain.
"What are you doing?"
"Jus' readin' quietly in my room, mother."
"Oh, for heaven's sake don't disturb him, then," said William's
sister.
"It's those silly books you read, Emma. You're always imagining
things. If you'd read the ones I recommend, instead of the foolish
ones you will get hold of----"
William's mother was safely mounted on one of her favourite
hobby-horses. William withdrew to his room and carefully concealed the
cream blanc-mange beneath his bed. He then waited till he heard the
guests arrive and exchange greetings in the hall. William, listening
with his door open, carefully committed to memory the voice and manner
of his sister's greeting to her friends. That would come in useful
later on, probably.
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