World War, 1914-1918 -- United States -- Juvenile fiction
“I hate to have the children go away again so soon,” she complained.
“I never would have given my consent if Mr. Barlow hadn’t been so busy
with war work that I don’t see much prospect of our getting out of town
for ages.”
“I do wish Mother hadn’t given up Mental Science,” Geraldine whispered
to Gretel. “We were all so comfortable while she was a Mental
Scientist. She gave it up after Jerry had pneumonia. She said he never
would have had it if she had taken better care of him, and made him
wear rubbers in bad weather. Oh, here comes Mr. Chester. I saw him at
Molly’s party last Christmas.” And Gretel hurried forward to announce
their arrival to her friend’s father.
Mr. Chester, a gray-haired gentleman with spectacles, greeted the party
very pleasantly, and after a few moments of chatting with the ladies,
carried the three young people off to the waiting train. As they passed
through the ticket gate, Mrs. Barlow’s last “Now do be sure to take
good care of yourselves, children,” was still ringing in their ears.
It was just as the train was moving out of the station that a sudden
recollection caused Gretel to utter an exclamation of dismay.
“Good gracious!” she gasped. “I forgot all about Fräulein.”
“What about her?” inquired Geraldine in surprise.
“Why, I was to have gone to tea at her aunt’s this afternoon. I never
once thought of it since Molly’s invitation came. Oh, what shall I do?”
“I don’t see that you can do anything about it except write a note,
telling her you are sorry you forgot,” said Geraldine. “Don’t look as
if something tragic had happened. It isn’t such a terrible crime to
forget an invitation to afternoon tea.”
“I think it is rather tragic, though,” said Gretel, smiling ruefully.
“I ought to have telephoned yesterday. Fräulein is so sensitive; she
will be sure to think I did it on purpose. The worst of it is, I really
didn’t want to go in the first place, and I am afraid she noticed it.”
“Well, it can’t be helped now, anyway,” said cheerful Geraldine. “You
can write a note this evening, and she’ll have it to-morrow. Isn’t it
great to be off on a journey by ourselves, and going to Molly’s? I’d
rather visit Molly Chester than any girl I know except you. Wasn’t it
dear of them to ask Jerry?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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