Light O' the Morning: The Story of an Irish Girl by L. T. Meade (best chinese ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Meanwhile Molly rushed off to Nora. “Linda means mischief, and I must put my foot down immediately,” she said.

“Why, Molly, what is up?”

“Put on your hat, darling, and come with me as fast as ever you can.”

“Where to?”

“Mother has given in about Stephanotie. Linda will put her finger in the pie if she possibly can. I mean Stephanotie to get her invitation within the next five minutes. Now, then, come along, Nora. Do be quick.”

Mrs. Hartrick never allowed the girls to go out except very neatly dressed; but on this occasion they were seen tearing down the road with their garden hats on and minus their gloves. Had anyone from The Laurels observed them, good-by to Molly's liberty for many a long day. No one did, however. Linda during the critical moment was closeted with her mother. When she reappeared the girls were halfway to the village. They reached it in good time, and arrived at the house of Miss Truefitt, Stephanotie's aunt.

Miss Truefitt was an old-fashioned and precise little lady. She had gone through a great deal of trouble since the arrival of her niece, and often, as she expressed it, did not know whether she stood on her head or her heels; but she was fond of Stephanotie, who, notwithstanding her wild ways, was very affectionate and very taking. And now, when she saw Molly and Nora appearing, she herself entered the hall and opened the door for them.

“Well, my dears,” she said, “Stephie is in her bedroom; she has a headache, and wanted to lie down for a little.”

“Oh, just let me run up to her. I won't keep her a minute,” said Molly.

“Come in here with me,” said Miss Truefitt to Nora. She opened the door of her neat little parlor. Nora entered. The room was full of gay pictures and gay books, and scattered here and there were very large boxes of bon-bons.

“How she can eat them all is what puzzles me,” said Miss Truefitt; “she seems to live on them. The quantity she demolishes would wreck the health of any English girl. Ah, here comes Molly.”

But Molly did not come downstairs alone; the American girl was with her. Stephanotie rushed into the room.

“I am going to The Laurels to-morrow, auntie. I am going quite early; this dear old Molly has asked me. You guess I'll have a good time. There will be a box of bon-bons for Nora, sweet little Irish Nora; and a box for dear little Molly, a true native of England, and a fine specimen to boot. Oh, we shall have a nice time; and I am so glad I am asked!”

“It is very kind of Mrs. Hartrick to send you an invitation, Stephie,” said her aunt.

“Oh, bother that, Aunt Violet! You know perfectly well she would not ask me if Molly and Nora had not got it out of her.”

“Well, we did try our best and most conoodling ways,” said Nora in a soft voice.

“Ah, didn't you, you little Irish witch; and I guess you won, too. Well, I'm going; we'll have a jolly lark with Linda. If for no other reason, I should be glad to go to upset her apple cart.”

“Dear me, Stephie! you are very coarse and vulgar,” said Miss Truefitt.

“Not a bit of it, auntie. Have a bon-bon, do.” Stephanotie rushed across the room, opened a big box of bon-bons, and presented one, as if it were a pistol, full in Miss Truefitt's face.

“Oh, no, thank you, my dear!” said that lady, backing;