"Of course. Always on an Ourday night."
"Oh, how lovely! Three times in one day."
"Kitty," said her mother, smiling, "I believe your highest ambition is ice-cream."
"Yes, it is," said Kitty, complacently; "or else huckleberry pie."
After the ice-cream, there was the trip home. But the children were not tired, and enjoyed thoroughly the ride, which was more of a treat to them than to their parents.
The Subway was fun, the ferryboat ride a delight, and after they were in the train on the New Jersey side, they coaxed the conductor to turn two seats to face each other. Then the quartette occupied these, and chattered gaily over the events of the day.
"Isn"t it lovely," said Marjorie, as they at last entered their own front door, "to think we"ve had such a good time, and yet Ourday isn"t over yet?"
"I know it," said Kitty. "And "tis specially lovely for me, "cause I can stay up to dinner, and dress up, and everything."
Ourdays always wound up with an extra good dinner, and a touch of gala costume in honor of the occasion. Then after dinner the evening was devoted to games or stories or fun of some sort, in which Mr. Maynard was the ringleader. Other evenings he was not to be disturbed, unless he chose, but Ourday evenings he belonged to the children, and willingly did whatever they asked him to.
But at nine o"clock the Ourday was over, and the children trooped off to bed, invariably repeating the same old story, "Now this has _really_ been the very best Ourday we _ever_ had!"
CHAPTER XVII
A SUBSt.i.tUTE GUEST
Thanksgiving Day came late that year. The red-lettered Thursday on the calendar didn"t appear until the last part of the month. But winter had set in early, and already there was fine coasting and skating.
Marjorie loved all out-of-door sports, and the jolly afternoons spent on the hill or on the lake sent her home with cheeks as rosy as a hard, sound, winter apple.
The Thanksgiving season always meant festivity of some sort. Sometimes they all went to Grandma Sherwood"s in orthodox traditional fashion, and sometimes they went to Grandma Maynard"s, who lived in New York.
But this year Mr. and Mrs. Maynard expected friends of their own, some grown-ups from the city, to spend the holiday.
"No children!" exclaimed Marjorie, when she heard about it.
"No, Midge," said her mother. "You must help me entertain my guests this time, as I sometimes help you entertain yours."
"Indeed you do, you sweetest mother in all the world!" cried impetuous Midget, as she flung herself into her mother"s arms. Midget"s embraces were of the strenuous order, and, though Mrs. Maynard never warded them off, she was often obliged to brace herself for the sudden impact.
"And I"ll help you a heap," went on Marjorie. "What can I do? May I make Indian pudding with raisins in it?"
Midge was just having a spell of learning to cook, and good-natured Ellen had taught her a few simple dishes, of which Indian pudding was the favorite.
"No thank you, dearie. As it is a festival occasion, I think we"ll have something a little more elaborate than that. You can help me better by trying to behave decorously, and by keeping the other children quiet when they are in the drawing-room. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford have never had any children, and they don"t like noise and confusion."
"You"re more used to it, aren"t you, Mother?" said Marjorie, again springing to give her mother one of her spasmodic embraces, and incidentally upsetting that long-suffering lady"s work-basket.
"I have to be if I live with my whirlwind of an eldest daughter," said Mrs. Maynard, when she could get her breath once more.
"Yes"m. And I"m awful sorry I upset your basket, but now I"ll just dump it out entirely, and clear it up from the beginning; shall I?"
"Yes, do; it always looks so nice after you put it in order."
And so it did, for Marjorie was methodical in details, and she arranged the little reels of silk, and put the needles tidily in their cushion, until the basket was in fine order.
"There," she said, admiring her own work, "don"t you touch that, Mother, until after Thanksgiving Day; and then it will be all in order for Mrs.
Crawford to see. When is she coming?"
"They"ll arrive Wednesday night and stay over until Friday morning. You may help me make the guest-rooms fresh and pretty for them."
"Yes; I"ll stick pins in the cushions to make the letters of their names. Shall I?"
"Well, no; I don"t believe I care for that particular fancy. But I"ll show you how I do like the pins put in, and you may do it for me. Now, run out and play, we"ll have ample time for our housekeeping affairs later on."
Away went Marjorie, after bestowing another tumultuous bear-hug on her mother. She whisked on her hat and coat, and with her mittens still in her hand, flew out of the door, banging it after her.
"Cold weather always goes to that child"s muscles," thought Mrs.
Maynard, as she heard the noise. "She never bangs doors in summer time."
"Wherever have you been?" cried the others, as Marjorie joined them on the hill.
"Talking to Mother. I meant to come out right away after school, but I forgot about it."
Gladys Fulton looked at her curiously. She wasn"t "intimate" with her mother, as Marjorie was, and she didn"t quite understand the relationship.
In another minute Midge was on her sled, and, with one red-mittened hand waving on high, was whizzing down the hill.
King caught up to her, and the others followed, and then they all walked back up the hill together.
"Going to have fun, Thanksgiving Day?" asked d.i.c.k Fulton, as they climbed along.
"No. We"re going to have a silly old Thanksgiving," said Marjorie. "Only grown-ups to visit us, and that means we don"t have any good of Father at all."
"Aw, horrid!" said King. "Is that the programme? I didn"t know it."
"Yes!" went on Marjorie, "and I"ve promised Mother to behave myself and to make all you others behave, too." Her own eyes danced, as she said this, and King burst into laughter.
"That"s a good one!" he cried. "Why, it will take the whole Maynard family to make you behave yourself, let alone the rest of us."
"No, truly, I"m going to be good, "cause Mother asked me most "specially." Marjorie"s earnest air was convincing, but King was skeptical.
"You mean to be good, all right," he said, "but at the party you"ll do some crazy thing without thinking."
"Very likely," said Mopsy, cheerfully, and then they all slid down hill again.
The day before Thanksgiving Day everything was in readiness for the guests.