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Updated: June 9, 2025
The clock struck five and Jackie peeped through the doors, dived under the counter, and ran into his mother's arms. "Well, did you get full marks to-day?" "Yes, mummie, I got full marks." "That's a good boy and you want your tea?" "Yes, mummie; I'm that hungry I could hardly walk home." "Hardly walk home! What, as bad as that?" "Yes, mummie. There's a new shop open in Oxford Street.
She leaned towards him, but was arrested by the change in his expression. His face, which had been a white mask of grief, became vulpine. "Yes, she will most probably be up there ... at his tomb...." Roger, behind him at the window, fluted miserably: "Mummie! Mummie!" He turned on him with a gesture of irritation and opened the door. "Here, Roger, let's go now."
"What is it, Mummie? I'm curious." "That's my secret! Take my advice and don't worry any more about Muriel. Things will probably turn out even in the end." In spite of coaxing Mother refused to explain herself further, and it was only when a few days had gone by, and they had almost forgotten the incident, that one morning she opened a letter, read it, and clapped her hands in triumph.
Annie turned and recrossed the garden, looking careful, as if she were thinking of her cap, round which the airs were blowing. Rosamund sat for a few minutes almost motionless, with the slip of paper lying in her lap; then the breeze came lightly, as if curious, and blew it away. Robin saw it and ran. "I'll catch it, mummie. You see! I'll catch it!"
Margot giggled helplessly. Mrs Martin stared fixedly out of the window, and Jim in his turn took up the ball of conversation. "Mummie, will you die before me?" "I can't tell, dear; nobody knows." "Will daddy die before me?" "Probably he will." "May I have his penknife when he's dead?"
Soon they came to the village, which looked so strange and quiet by the early morning light, with the cottage-doors all shut, and the windows closed and the blinds drawn. Humpty jumped down to open the gate leading up the drive, and there on the doorstep were mummie and daddy, looking so white and ill, who had come out of the house at the sound of the wheels on the gravel to greet them.
"Oh, I don't know; don't bother me with your boat." "Oh, mummie, what have I done that you won't look at my boat? Aren't you coming with father to the Rye to see me sail it?" "I don't want to go with you. You want me no more.
Now, if you want to know what she was like, you must just think of your own dearest dear mummie. At least that was what she seemed to little Prince Akbar, who, at the sight of her, held out his little fat arms and crowed, "Amma! Amma!" Now, this, you will observe, is only English "Ma-Ma" arranged differently; from which you may guess that English and Indian children are really very much alike.
Mummie asked that lady whether it was raining when she got here; and she said: "I THINK not." I can't imagine why Mummie always wants to know what her friends think about the weather. I have heard her ask seven ladies this afternoon whether it is raining.
Humphries was of the opinion that henceforth Esther should give herself out as Jackie's aunt. "None believes them stories, but they make one seem more respectable like, and I am sure Mr. Parsons will appreciate the intention." Esther did not answer, but she thought of what Mrs. Humphries had said. Perhaps it would be better if Jackie were to leave off calling her Mummie. Auntie!
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