“Oh, Mother! Not really! How perfectly
lovely! Why?”
“Measles at school; so they are closing a month
early, and it would be such a boon to Mrs.
Outram and me if the boys could be quarantined away
from home. Aunt Mary says she would like
to have them, strange woman, and Grannie is already
planning a course of Manners—the beautiful
capital-M Manners of her young days.”
Mollie laughed as she gave her mother a comfortable
unmannerly hug. “You are all frauds,”
she said. “Don’t talk to me of your
young days. I guess they weren’t one pin
better than ours. I hope Dick and Jerry are coming
soon.”
“To-morrow. Now, I’ll have some tea,
and then a little talk, and then I must be off again.
I stole Father’s car, as he has gone down to
Bournemouth. So there’s no time to waste.
What beautiful strawberries!”
“They are ready just in time for the boys,”
said Grannie benignly.
How it Ended
Dick and Jerry arrived on the following morning in
rampageous spirits. To get away from hot and
dusty London to the cool, green country, from the
discipline and restrictions of school to the benevolent
and generous rule of Grannie’s household, from
plain bread-and-butter, stews, and solid puddings,
to Martha’s delicious scones and unlimited strawberries
and cream—was enough to make any thirteen-year-old
schoolboy radiantly cheerful. There was plenty
to do at Chauncery, too; a first-class tennis-court
and an aunt who played for her county; excellent golf
and the same aunt nearly as good at golf as she was
at tennis; a pony to be ridden or driven, several
dogs and a new litter of puppies, and last but not
least, Mollie, and the mystery of the Time-travellers
to be talked over.
“Here we are, Grannie,” Dick exclaimed
superfluously, running up the front steps to where
Grannie stood with a smile of welcome on her beaming
face. “And jolly glad to be here, you bet
your best Sunday bonnet. London is like a baker’s
oven. You look very fit, Grannie, and Jerry says
Aunt Mary is too young to be my aunt; I believe he
is spoons on her already—what ho! my Uncle
Jerry! Come and be introduced.” Dick
gave Jerry’s arm a tug, and Young Outram shook
hands with a smile that won Grannie’s heart at
once.
Mollie had limped out of the morning-room with the
help of a stout crook-handled stick. Dick gave
her a brotherly peck, and Jerry looked at her commiseratingly.
It was rather difficult to reconcile this pale, limping
Mollie with the active young Time-traveller of yesterday.
“You’re looking a bit like a mashed potato,”
Dick remarked critically. “You’ve
been shut up in the house too much. It’s
time we came and hauled you out. I’ll tell
you what, Aunt Polly-wolly-doodle, we’ll take
her out for a drive in the trap this afternoon.”
“We’ll see,” said Aunt Mary.
“I am afraid you are too fresh, Dick. You
might tumble her out in the exuberance of your spirits.
Besides, it is going to rain—it is drizzling
already.”
