Page:St. Nicholas (serial) (IA stnicholasserial321dodg).pdf/472

340 it somewhat difficult to enter into the spirit of the occasion, as her mind would wander to the question of how she should break the news to her mother, and how it would he received.

As she parted with Marion, the last of the group, and made the rest of her way alone, Hetty’s heart sank lower. How was she ever going to face her mother and tell her what she had done? She resolved that she would do it right away, and at least have that part of the problem off her mind. But when she reached home she saw at once that this was no time to act on her resolution,

Her mother met her at the door.

“Oh, Hetty, child, I thought you were never coming,” she said. “Please run right down and get some more sewing-silk to match these samples. Miss Gilbert will be all out of it in fifteen minutes. And youd better take Emy and Omy with you. It is perfectly impossible for us to attend to them and the sewing at the same time.”

Hetty thought to herself rather grimly: “I ’ll just say right cut: ‘Mother, I'm going to have a party Saturday.’”

But she thought better of it and started off on her errand, with the twins gaily trotting at her heels or ahead of her, frolicking like young colts in their joy at being released from the bondage of indoors, and traveling four or five times each block of the way as they pranced back and forth. Hetty plodded along with unusual unresponsiveness, going over and over in her mind the various ways she could plan of telling her mother what she had done. When she came home again there were lessons and the twins, the table to set and the twins, and a general hurry and scramble till those little time-consumers had been put to bed. After they were asleep they looked so angelic, with their white nightgowns and their clean faces, that Hetty stayed for several extra kisses and felt mean that she had ever got tired of them. She determined to stay awake till her mother came up, in order to get the load off her mind; but the quiet and darkness were too much for her healthy and tired little body,-and she never knew when her mother stooped to tuck her in and kiss her good night, nor anything more till she was wakened in the bright morning sunshine by a heavy pillow thumping her on the face as it missed Omy,

There was never time in the morning, when there was always a frantic rush to get through everything that had to be done before time to go to school; so Hetty started off with her lunch and her books and the much heavier burden of black care riding on her shoulder.

At school it was no better. As her class assembled and at recess, in the lively twitter of girls’ voices there was an ever-recurring refrain of “Hetty Macdonald’s party,” “Hetty Macdonald’s party,” which poor Hetty thought would drive her mad.

On returning home, a strange serenity reigned in the house. There was no one visible till Hetty went upstairs and found Virginia hard at work on her Latin, the high-school girls being released an hour earlier than those of the lower grades.

“Where ’s mother?” demanded Hetty.

“She’s gone,” said Virginia, absently. “Aunt Ruth ’s ill and mother is to stay with her all night.”

Hetty’s heart fell like lead. All might! In the morning it would be too late. Oh, why had n’t she told her mother at first? How much worse it was to have it all come upon her at the last minute! She was so worried that even her sisters noticed her depression and said:

“Are you ill, Hetty? For goodness’ sake, don’t get ill while mother is away.”

“I ’ve got a sort of headache,” stammered Hetty; “I think I ’ll go to bed soon.”

After she had gone, Christine said rather anxiously: “The child looks pale, and she never talks about headache. 1 do hope she is n’t going to be ill.”

“Oh, she’s just tired romping,” said Virginia, easily. “Do see if yon can help me make any sense of this Latin gibberish.”

For once Hetty lay awake, heavy-hearted. When she did finally get to sleep, her last waking thought was a fervent wish:

She “just hoped there would be an awful thunder-storm, so that the girls could n’t come.”

But the gay morning sunshine blighted poor Hetty’s hopes of a storm. Her mother came home about noon, to be greeted with as warm