* * * * *
_One week later._
Father's been awfully queer this whole week through. I can't make him
out at all. Sometimes I think he's glad I told him all those things in
the parlor that day I dressed up in Marie's things, and sometimes I
think he's sorry and wished I hadn't.
The very next morning he came down to breakfast with such a funny look
on his face. He said good-morning to me three times, and all through
breakfast he kept looking over at me with a kind of scowl that was not
cross at all--just puzzled.
After breakfast he didn't go out to the observatory, not even into the
library. He fidgeted around the dining-room till Aunt Jane went out
into the kitchen to give her orders to Susie; then he burst out, all
of a sudden:
"Well, Mary, what shall we do to-day?" Just like that he said it, as
if we'd been doing things together every day of our lives.
"D-do?" I asked; and I know I showed how surprised I was by the way I
stammered and flushed up.
"Certainly, do," he answered, impatient and scowling. "What shall we
do?"
"Why, Father, I--I don't know," I stammered again.
"Come, come, of course you know!" he cried. "You know what you want to
do, don't you?"
I shook my head.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142