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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Who's Emmeline?" asked Muffie. "Oh, how stupid you are," cried Pauline; "she's the daughter, of course, 'sitting in the spachius drawing-room of the castle her father strode in, and he led by the hand a very horty lady. "This is your new mother and I command you to obey her, my lady Emmeline," he said. Emmeline fainted to the ground.
So she exacted half an hour a day at the piano from each of the little girls, and faithfully sat beside them saying: "One, two, three, four, don't droop your wrists, Lynn; one, two, three, four, count, Pauline; one, two, three, four, thumb under, Muffie."
"Was really a fairy under a enchanting spell?" whispered Lynn. But Muffie was too sleepy to rise to the occasion. She repeated her formula once more in the hope of helping herself. "'Oncepon a time there was a a dog and it it " "Barked?" said Max. "Yes," said Muffie thankfully. "That's all, Paul write it big, and it will make a lot. Le's go and see if tea's ready."
The last was a slightly tangled remark picked up from Miss Kinross who had been heard to speak of various interruptions putting her brother out of vein. Muffie, thwarted in her desire to scratch a horse upon the surface of the table, fell to filling up a crack in it with sand scooped up from the floor and mixed, when the writing lady was not looking, to a pleasing consistency with ink.
And then the fight again in the new-born day with Howie. The lad looked miserable. How could he give up such a holiday? Yet how allow Howie an uncontested victory with the latest stranger? Max and Muffie had run back along the path in pursuit of a lively lizard. Only Lynn and Pauline, their sweet little faces ashine with sympathy, hung on the gate. The lad blurted out his highest hope to them.
"We gen'ally hide ahind the waratahs or the bamboos, or up a tree's a good place," said Muffie, much interested. If it were hide-and-seek about to begin, this is where Max shone. He laid down his pen and slipped down from his chair. "I'll find her for you," he said. "I find licker than any one. Once I found Paul an' she was lapped up in the sheets in the linen less."
"Yes she does," said Muffie, "she sawed you coming up the path." "An' she lushed out of the loom," volunteered Max. "Well," said Hugh, "she's got to see me, for it's very important. Will you go to her room, Muffie, and say Mr. Kinross begs to see her as a special favour?" "Oh," said Muffie, "she isn't in her room.
Not face downward, on a rug and with swiftly-moving eyes and hurrying breath, as was her custom with a living book, but she had merely picked up the History of England and sat with it quite listlessly on a chair. And Muffie was standing at the window, breathing on a pane from time to time and then drearily drawing figures upon her breath.
"Pauline, Lynn, get out your pens this moment; no, Muffie, you must write in pencil, you have spoiled the cloth with the ink you have spilled; yes, yes, in a minute; Max, you sit here, dear, on the nice high chair, and then you can reach beautifully."
Muffie nearly fell asleep, Pauline's hand grew cramped, and still the fairy continued to "have" things. "'Her dress was of silver spider's silk studded all over with dewdrops'," went on Lynn, beginning now energetically upon every detail of the wardrobe of the "beautious" being.
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