Part 9 (1/2)
Judy had seen the Crown Derby service unpacked, and then, in the sober fas.h.i.+on which more or less characterized all her actions of late, she left the room.
She went up to the bedroom which she and Babs shared together, and sitting down by the window, rested her chubby cheek against her hand.
Babs was kneeling down in a distant corner, pulling a doll's bedstead to pieces for the express purpose of putting it together again.
”My doll Lily has been very naughty to-day,” she said, ”and I am going to put her to bed. She wouldn't half say her lessons this morning, and she deserves to be well punished. What are you thinking of, Judy, and why do you pucker up your forehead? It makes you look so cross.”
”Never mind about my forehead. I have a lot of things to think of just now. I can't be always laughing and talking like you.”
Babs paused in the act of putting a sheet on her doll's bed to gaze at Judy with great intentness.
”You might tell me what's the matter with you,” she said, after a moment of silence; ”you are not a bit interesting lately; you're always thinking and always frowning, unless at night when you are sobbing.”
”Oh, don't!” said Judy. ”Don't you see what it is, Babs--can't you guess?--it is only a week off now.”
”What's only a week off?”
”Hilda's wedding. Oh, dear; oh, dear! I wish I were dead; I do wish I were dead.”
Babs did not think this remark of poor Judy's worth replying to. She gravely finished making her doll's bed, tucked Lily up comfortably, and coming over to the window, knelt down, placed her elbows on the ledge, and looked out at the snowy landscape.
”Hasn't Hilda got lots and lots of presents?” she said, after a pause.
”Yes. I don't want to see them, though.”
”Everyone is giving her a present,” continued Babs, in her calm voice, ”even Miss Mills and the servants. Susan told me that the schoolchildren were collecting money to buy her something, and--may I tell you a 'mendous big secret, Judy?”
Judy ceased to frown, and looked at Babs with a faint dawning of interest in her eyes.
”I has got a present for her too,” said Babs, beginning to dance about.
”I am not going to give it till the day of the wedding. I buyed it my own self, and it's _quite_ beautiful. What are you going to give her, Judy?”
”Nothing. I haven't any money.”
”I have half a sovereign in the Savings Bank, but I can't take it out until after I am seven. I wish I could, for I could lend it to you to give Hilda a wedding present.”
”I wish you could,” said Judy. ”I'd like awfully to give her something.
You might tell me what you have got, Babs.”
”It's some darning-cotton,” said Babs in a whisper. ”I buyed it last week with twopence-halfpenny; you remember the day I went with Mrs.
Sutton to town. She said it was a very useful thing, for Hilda will want to mend Jasper's socks, and if she hasn't darning-cotton handy maybe he'll scold her.”
”He wouldn't dare to,” said Judy, with a frown; ”she _shan't_ mend his horrid socks. Why did you get such a nasty wedding present, Babs?”
A flush of delicate color spread all over Babs' little fair face. She winked her blue eyes hard to keep back the tears which Judy's scathing remarks were bringing to the surface, and said, after a pause:
”It's not a horrid present, it's lovely; and anyhow”--her voice becoming energetic as this happy mode of revenge occurred to her--”it is better than yours, for you has got nothing at all.”
”Oh, I'll have something when the day comes,” replied Judy, in a would-be careless tone.