Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Family -- England -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
Jack was pleased to approve of the glove proposition, and an adjournment
was made to the doctor's dressing-room, where a pair of `funeral gloves'
were discovered which seemed exactly what was desired. Jack drew one on
his right hand, Jill drew the other on her left, and thus equipped they
crept back to their hiding-place behind the shabby red curtains, and
proceeded to work.
It was rather difficult to move the glass so as to throw the reflection
on one exact spot, as the conspirators could only peep out for a moment
at a time. The little white circle of light danced all over the big
grey house before it found the window above the porch, and, moving
slowly up and down, eventually alighted on the page of the open book.
Jill giggled, Jack snored loudly, as was his habit when excited; the Pet
gave a little hitch round in her chair, and read on stolidly.
"My turn! My turn!" cried Jill excitedly. "You've had your innings,
now give me mine. Hand it over!" and the two black gloved hands met in
the middle of the window.
"You moved it away too quickly! You must follow her about, and bob it
g-ently up and down. Wait till I get it right. There it is! I've got
it better than you, Jack, ever so much better!"
"That's because the sun's so much brighter. Be careful now. That's
enough! If you go on too long at a time, she'll move away into the room
and it will be all up. Let her settle down again, and imagine she's all
right, then we'll give her another treat!"
It was wonderful how expert one grew with practice! The light now
danced direct to its destination, and move her book as she would, the
Pet could not escape. At last she grew impatient, tossed back her mane
of hair and turned to stare curiously out of the window. This was the
longed-for opportunity, and Jack snored louder than ever with relief
that it had come about when it was his turn to hold the treasured glass.
Quick as thought he waved it to and fro, and the Pet threw up her
hands, unable to withstand the glare. Safe in the seclusion of their
distant room, the twins shrieked with exultation, and had much ado to
keep their position behind the curtains. Jill kept endeavouring to
snatch the glass from her brother, but Jack was too intent on his work
to take any notice of her efforts.
The Pet lifted one hand from her eyes and cautiously peeped out. The
sun was shining with unusual brilliancy for an October morning, but
there was not the slightest difficulty in viewing the landscape as fully
as she liked. She turned her head from side to side in a curious
inquiring fashion, and Jack, with an artist's appreciation of the right
moment, waited until she had abandoned the search, and was about to
settle down again, when another blinding flash of light fell full on her
face, and she shrank back into the shade with a startled gesture.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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