Listening Valley Read Free

soon,” said Jack.
    â€œNannie won’t let them,” said the picture lady.
    Aunt Daisy laughed and said, “Oh, you know who they are!”
    Lou and Tonia walked home in silence, for there was so much to think about that they had no words at all. It was not until they had regained the familiar haven of the nursery and had seated themselves upon the blue cretonne-covered window seat that they found their tongues.
    â€œHer name is Wanda,” said Tonia in a low voice.
    â€œAnd Jack is her son,” said Lou. “And the house is called Liberty Hall.”
    â€œShe knows who we are,” said Tonia. “How does she know, Lou?”
    â€œI wonder,” said Lou, frowning.
    â€œThey were laughing at us—”
    â€œBut not nastily—”
    â€œOh no—”
    â€œAll the same,” said Lou slowly. “All the same…we were silly. Next time…”
    Tonia nodded. She knew what Lou meant, for they were so close to each other that they needed very few words. Next time they went to Liberty Hall they must behave like Mother’s friends. Tonia knew how they behaved because she and Lou were sometimes present at Mother’s tea parties and were permitted to hand around the cakes. Mother’s friends talked all the time; they talked about their children, their servants, and their clothes. It was quite different sort of talk.
    â€œI don’t think we could,” said Tonia suddenly.
    â€œWhat?” asked Lou, whose thoughts had strayed in a different direction.
    â€œTalk to them,” said Tonia with a sigh.
    While they were out, Maggie had brought up the nursery tea and laid it on the table. There were two large mugs of milk, a pile of thick bread and butter, and several slices of nursery cake—very plain and uninteresting.
    â€œI couldn’t,” said Lou, looking at it in disgust.
    Tonia had not eaten as many éclairs as Lou, but she had eaten enough to make bread and butter distasteful. “I suppose we ought to,” she said in doubtful tones.
    â€œI couldn’t,” repeated Lou.
    They were still looking at the spread and wondering what to do when Maggie returned to clear away.
    â€œYou’ve eaten nothing. Are you feeling well enough?” she inquired, looking at the children anxiously.
    â€œWe’ve had tea, thank you,” said Lou with a grand air. “We called on a lady and she asked us to stay.”
    Lou did not hesitate to tell Maggie about their adventure, for Maggie was an ally. She was not like other grown-ups (who were apt to take strong views and were nearly always unreasonable). Maggie was young and friendly and amenable to suggestion. The story was a good one and Lou told it well, encouraged by the absorbed attention of her audience.
    â€œWell now, did you ever hear the like!” exclaimed Maggie. “In the name of Fortune what will you think of next! You rang the bell as bold as brass and Mrs. Halley asked you in to tea!”
    â€œMrs. Halley—is that her name?” asked Lou.
    â€œThat’s her name,” replied Maggie, nodding portentously. “My cousin is there as kitchen maid and I’ve been there two or three times. It’s a very comfortable place if you don’t mind the goings-on.”
    â€œGoings-on?”
    â€œParties and the like. It’s a gay house—not like here. I had the offer to go as housemaid, but Father put his foot down,” added Maggie regretfully. “Father is all for respectability.”
    â€œWhat is respectability?” inquired Tonia. The word had intrigued her when she had heard it used by her new friends—and here it was again.
    â€œWell, there now,” said Maggie. “You’re a funny one and no mistake. Respectability is living with your husband, quiet-like, and going off to bed at the proper time… And my goodness if it’s not your bedtime this minute and me with the tea dishes to wash. You get