Whilst Waiting for the Motor

BY

MADELINE OYLER

 Her name was Isabel, and she really was a very nice, good little girl--when she remembered. But you can't always remember, you know; you wouldn't be a little girl if you could, and this happened on one of those days when she didn't remember.

Of course Peter forgot too; but then you would expect him to, for he was only a boy, and boys, as I suppose you know, cannot use their brains in the way that girls can.

The two had spent their morning in the usual way, had breakfast, fed the rabbits, said 'Good-morning' to the horses, got mother a bunch of flowers from their own gardens (Isabel's turn this morning), seen daddy off, and then had lessons.

You wouldn't have guessed for a moment that it was going to be a bad day; everything had gone well. Peter had actually remembered that Madrid was the capital of Spain, always a rather doubtful question with him; and Isabel had said her eight times with only two mistakes, and they were slight ones.

So you may imagine they were feeling very happy and good, because it was a half-holiday, and, best of all, because Auntie May was coming over with her big motor at three o'clock, to take them back to tea with grandpapa.

I should like you to understand that it was not just an ordinary tea, but a special one; for it was grandpapa's birthday, and, as perhaps you know, grandpapas don't often have birthday parties, so it was a great occasion.

It had taken a long time to choose his presents, but at last they were decided.

Isabel had made him a blue silk shaving tidy, with 'Shaving' worked in pink across it. The 'h-a-v' of 'Shaving' were rather smaller than the other letters, because, after she had drawn a large 'S,' she was afraid there would not be room for such big letters. Afterwards she found there was plenty of room, so she did 'i-n-g' bigger to make up for it.

After all, it really didn't matter unless you were _very_ particular; and of course you wouldn't see that the stitches showed rather badly on the inside unless you opened it. Besides, as grandpapa grew a beard, and didn't shave at all, he wouldn't want to look inside.

Peter had bought a knife for him; being a boy, and therefore rather helpless, he was not able to make him anything. He did begin to carve grandpapa a wooden ship, although Isabel pointed out to him that grandpapa would never sail it; but Peter thought he might like to have it just to look at.

However, just at an important part the wood split; so after all it had to be a knife, which of course is always useful.

These presents were kept very secret; not even mother was allowed to know what they were.

Three o'clock seemed such a long time coming--you know how slow it _can_ be. But at half-past two nurse took them up to dress. Peter had a nice white serge suit, and nurse had put out a clean starched muslin for Isabel, but she (being rather a vain little girl) begged for her white silk.

I ought to explain about this frock. One of her aunties sent it to her on her last birthday. It was quite the most beautiful little dress you ever saw--thick white silk embroidered with daisies. Isabel loved it dearly, but was only allowed to wear it on very great occasions.

Follow-my-leader

Well, when she asked if she might put it on, nurse said she thought it would be wiser not to. 'You won't be able to run about and climb trees at your grandpapa's if you do, Miss Isabel.'

'But I shan't want to,' replied Isabel, 'for it is a grown-up party, and we shall only sit and talk.'

So after all she was allowed to wear it, and with that on and a beautiful new sash her Uncle Dick had just sent her from India, she felt a very smart little girl indeed.

The shaving tidy she had done up in a parcel, and Peter had the knife in his pocket, so they were quite ready, and as they went down to the hall the clock struck three.

Alas! there was no motor waiting; instead there was mother with a telegram in her hand saying that Auntie May couldn't come for them till four o'clock.

What a disappointment! A whole hour longer to wait! What were they to do with themselves?

Mother suggested that they should sit down quietly and read, but who can possibly sit and read when a big motor is coming soon to fetch them?

So mother very kindly said they might go out in the garden.

'Only remember,' she said, 'you are not to run about and get hot and untidy; and keep on the paths, don't go on the grass.'

So out they went, Isabel hugging her precious parcel. She was afraid to leave it in the hall lest mother should see it and guess by the shape what it was, which of course would spoil it all.

They strolled round the garden, peeped at the rabbits and a brood of baby chickens just hatched, then wandered on down the drive.

'Can't we play something?' suggested Isabel--'something quite clean and quiet with no running in it.'

Peter thought for some time, then he said: 'I don't believe there are any games like that.' Being a boy, you see, he couldn't think of one, so he said he didn't think there were any.

 'Yes, there are,' said Isabel, 'heaps of them, only I can't think of one. Oh, I know, follow my leader, walking, not running, and of course not on the grass. I'll be leader.'

So off they started, and great fun it was. Isabel led into such queer places--the potting-house, tool-shed, laundry, and even into the dairy once. Then it was Peter's turn, and he went through the chicken-run, stable-yard, and kitchen-garden, and then down the drive.

When he got to the gate he hesitated, then started off down the road.

'Ought we to go down here, do you think?' asked Isabel, plodding along behind him.

'Oh, yes, it's all right,' Peter said; 'we're keeping off the grass and not running, and that's all mother told us,' and on they went.

After walking for a little way, Peter turned off down a side lane, a favourite walk of theirs in summer, and Isabel followed obediently.

Unfortunately, for the last three days it had rained heavily, and the deep cart-ruts on both sides of the road were full of thick, muddy water.

In trying to walk along the top of one of them, Peter's foot slipped, and, before he could prevent it, in it went, right over the top of his nice patent-leather shoe.

Isabel, who was following close behind, intently copying her leader in all his movements, plopped hers in too.

'Goodness, what a mess!' said Peter, surveying his muddy foot. 'How awful it looks! I think I shall make the other one dirty too, then it won't look so bad.'

So in went each clean foot.

And then it was, I am sorry to say, that Isabel forgot to be good. You remember I told you that she did sometimes?

She said: 'Now that our feet are dirty, let's paddle, they can't look worse, and it's such fun!' And as Peter thought so too, paddle they did, up and down the dirty, muddy cart-ruts.

Presently Peter's white suit and even his clean tie were spotted with mud, and Isabel's beautiful little dress was soaked with muddy water all round the bottom, and, saddest of all, her new sash was dragging behind her in the water, quite spoilt; but they were so excited that they neither of them noticed how they were spoiling their clothes, or that the parcel with the shaving-tidy in it had been dropped and stamped down into the mud.

They were in the middle of the fun when suddenly they heard in the distance the 'toot-toot' of a motor-horn, and, looking at each other in dismay, they realised it must be Auntie May come to fetch them.

'We shall have to change first,' gasped Isabel, as they hurried along the road. 'I'm afraid we look rather messy!'

Peter said nothing; he was feeling too miserable.

It was a sad sight that met nurse's horrified eyes as she hurried anxiously out through the gates in search of them, having hunted the garden in vain; and it was a very shamefaced little pair that hastened by the big motor at the front door and into the hall, where they found mother and Auntie May waiting.

Isabel and Peter really did feel more sorry and ashamed than I can tell you, and, grievous though it be, mother and Auntie May went to tea with grandpapa, but Peter and Isabel went to bed!