Part 6 (1/2)

”Princess b.u.t.ter-ball, what a vulgar way of speaking you have!--'all along of'--I'm ashamed of you,” said Jinny severely. ”Besides, we did have a mamma once--all except----” and she glanced at Baby, but without finis.h.i.+ng her sentence. For had she done so poor Princess Baby would have burst into loud sobs; it was a very sore point with her that she had never had a mamma at all, whereas all the others, even b.u.t.ter-ball, were perfectly sure they could remember their mother.

”If Aunt Ginevra would come home,” sighed Elspeth. ”We've always been promised she would.” ”And she's written us kind letters,” added Agatha.

”What's letters?” said Jinny contemptuously.

”Well, you needn't complain,” said Helen. ”She sent you a silver mug--real silver--and that's more than any of our G.o.dmothers did for the rest of us.”

”Yes, she did,” said Jinny, ”and it's fortunate for us all, princesses, that through all our troubles I have always kept that one--memento of happier days about my person----”

”What stories, Jinny!” Agatha exclaimed. ”At least it's stories if you're being real just now. You mix up princess-ing and real, so that I get quite muddled. But, you know, you _don't_ carry the mug about with you.”

For all answer, Princess Ginevra, after some fumbling in her pocket, drew out a short, thick parcel wrapped in tissue paper, which she unfolded, and held up to view a silver mug.

”There now,” she said.

Agatha looked rather crestfallen.

”It must be very uncomfortable to have that lumpy thing in your pocket, and some day Miss Burton will be asking where it's gone,” she said. ”I suppose it makes you fancy yourself more a princess, but I'm getting rather tired of fancies. Now if we only had a beautiful doll, and could all work at dressing it, that _would_ be worth something.”

”And we might go on being princesses all the same, or even more,” put in Elspeth.

”Patience,” said Jinny, ”patience and courage. Leave it to me. I think I see my way. I have my eye on a trusty adherent, and if I am not much mistaken, you shall have a doll before Christmas.”

All five p.r.i.c.ked up their ears at this--they had all at the bottom of their hearts the greatest faith in Ginevra, though the elder ones now and then felt it necessary to snub her a little.

”Are you in earnest, Jinny?” said Helen; ”and if you are, I wish you'd tell us what you mean. Who is the trusty adherent?”

”I know,” said Agatha. ”It's the red-haired boy next door. Jinny dropped her umbrella the other day and he picked it up for her, and she stopped to thank him--that day we had colds and couldn't go out, Helen.”

”No,” said Elspeth; ”it was Jinny that picked up some of his books that dropped--he was carrying such a pile of awfully messy ragged ones. He must go to a messy school.”

”He was not going to school,” said Ginevra. ”He was taking these old books to--but no, I must not betray him.”

”Rubbish,” said Agatha; ”he can't be more than nine. What could there be to betray? _He's_ not a shut-up prince, Jinny. Do talk sense for once.”

Ginevra changed her tone.

”I don't want to tell you,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice, ”for fear of disappointing you all. Just wait a very few days and then I'll tell you. But first, _supposing_ we could get a doll, what should it be like--fair or dark?”

”Dark, black hair and brown eyes,” replied all the five voices. For the six princesses had fair curls and blue eyes, so, naturally, they preferred a contrast.

”Hum,” said Tinny. ”Brown hair, perhaps, but not black. The black-haired dolls in the shop-windows look common.”

”Never mind. _Any_ haired would do so long as we got her,” said Agatha.

”But don't talk about it. It does make me want her _so_ dreadfully.”

Late that afternoon, just about the time that the little boy next door would be coming home from school, a small figure with a shawl drawn over its head might have been seen at Miss Burton's front gate. She had waited patiently for some minutes. At last she was rewarded by the sight, or the sound rather, for it was almost too dark to see any one, of Master Red-Head coming up the road. When he got close to his own door she called out. It was rather difficult to do so, for she had no idea what his name was.

”Master--Mr.--” she began, and then changing suddenly, ”boy, please, I don't know your name.”