Hue and Cry Read Online Free PDF

laughter.
    â€œShe’s so dreadfully spoiled,” wailed Mrs. Craddock in the background. “Barbara my dear! Bimbo! No— no —not biting! Good little dog!”
    Bimbo snuffled.
    Mally went and sat down beside Barbara in the big chair.
    â€œShow me your book,” she said in a laughing voice. “And do let’s be friends. It’ll be more amusing really, because I know about three hundred stories; and if we’re all biting and screaming, I can’t possibly tell you any of them—can I?”
    Sir George came in half an hour later, to find Barbara on Mally’s lap, and a story just arrived at the happy ever after stage. He greeted Mally gravely and kindly, refused tea, and seemed to be hurried and preoccupied. After ten minutes or so he got up to go.
    â€œI’m dining out, Lena. What have you arranged with Miss Lee?”
    Mrs. Craddock dropped a stitch.
    â€œWell, George, really I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve arranged anything. I really didn’t know—I’d no idea—I’m sure I’m very sorry if you meant me to.”
    Sir George turned to Mally with a slight frown.
    â€œMy sister was going to ask you what you would like to do about your evening meal. We should be delighted if you would dine with us—or with my sister when I am out. But if you would prefer to have supper with Barbara and feel that the evening is your own to do just as you like with, well——” He completed the sentence with a smile.
    Mally felt her arm pinched; it was clear enough what Barbara wished her to say. She said it obediently, and saw at once that she had pleased Sir George. She had an impression that the pleasure went deep.
    Barbara fairly bounced on her lap.
    â€œShe’ll tell me stories all the time,” she announced.
    When Sir George had gone out, Mrs. Craddock gazed mournfully at Mally and heaved a sort of sniffing sigh.
    â€œI’m afraid my brother thinks I was remiss. But really there was so little time, and—now, what do you think? Would you have said that he was vexed?”
    â€œNo. Why should he be?”
    â€œWell, my dear Miss Lee, I don’t know. Gentlemen are very often vexed without much reason—don’t you think so? Now, my brother—he is of course very busy, very occupied; but he never forgets anything, and it puts him out quite terribly if other people don’t remember things.”
    Here her knitting slipped to the ground and Mally picked it up with a dexterous swoop. Barbara clutched her, shrieking with delight. Bimbo growled, and Mrs. Craddock continued without an appreciable pause:
    â€œThank you—oh, thank you. I mean my memory has always been very bad; and if you’ve got a bad memory, why, you’ve got a bad memory. But there, it always vexes him just the same, though I’m sure if I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a hundred times that I haven’t got his head.”
    Barbara took Mally upstairs presently and showed her their domain—a pink bedroom which was Barbara’s; a blue bedroom which was Mally’s; and a sitting-room with white walls and chintzes covered with parrots and birds of paradise. There was a connecting door between the pink bedroom and the blue bedroom. “So as I can come in in the morning and get into your bed, and you can tell me a new story every day.”
    Mally laughed.
    â€œSuppose there isn’t a story in my story box?”
    â€œDo you keep them in a box?”
    â€œIn a secret box. Sometimes when I open it there’s nothing there—I never know. You’ll have to take your chance.”
    Barbara flung herself upon her in a sudden hug.
    â€œI do like you!”
    They hugged each other. After a moment Barbara let go, stepped back, and said in a tone of ferocious intensity:
    â€œBut I shan’t if you’re going to like Pinko.”
    â€œWho on earth’s Pinko?”
    â€œHe’s my