The Interrupted Tale Read Free Page B

to Ashton Place,
    For she’s a credit to Ashton Place!
    And so say all of us!”
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    The cake was cut into slices and gobbled up without delay. Everyone agreed that Cook had outdone herself with the marzipan flowers, which were both lifelike and delicious. Even Mrs. Clarke treated herself to a slice, although she had been watching her figure in recent months. After her last forkful, she announced, “And now your present.”
    â€œA present!” Penelope could hardly believe it. But it was true. Even on their modest incomes, the servants had managed to pool together enough money to buy Penelope an absolutely spectacular gift. It was a new type of pen called a “fountain pen,” which could write line after line without having to be dipped into the inkwell. Penelope could not stop marveling at it and thanked them all repeatedly.
    â€œAw, Miss Lumley! We all know how much you like to write letters,” Margaret squeaked, and the rest of the servants smiled, because it was clearly a well-chosen gift.
    The Incorrigible children each had presents of their own to give, not as fancy as the pen, perhaps, but they had been handmade for the occasion, and that made them all the nicer, everyone was quick to note.
    Alexander had drawn a map of the nursery, tinted with watercolors and oriented according to the compass, with all the furniture drawn to scale, down to the last footstool.
    Beowulf had gnawed a perfectly usable letter opener out of a piece of wood. That the wood looked suspiciously like the remains of a ruler Penelope had searched for in vain just the other day was a fact she chose to ignore.
    As for Cassiopeia: “Here, Lumawoo.” The girl sounded uncharacteristically bashful as she offered her gift. It was a small, hand-sewn pillow, with one word embroidered crookedly on its front.
    Loveawoo , it said.
    The stitching was far from expert, and the pillow was uneven in shape. The fabric, Penelope recognized at once, was cut from an old blanket that had been retired from use in the nursery after Beowulf had chewed off the corners, but still—who would have thought little Cassiopeia could manage such a thing?
    â€œFluffy,” Cassiopeia said, and gave the lumpy pillow a squeeze to demonstrate. “Bertha made the feathers.” (Bertha, as you may already know, was a sweet but dim-witted ostrich who had been left at Ashton Place by a recent visitor, and who was being cared for by Penelope and the children until a qualified person could be found to accompany the large bird back to Africa, where she rightly belonged.)
    â€œLumawoo likes pillow?” she nudged, for Penelope was still staring wordlessly at her gift.
    â€œI do.” Penelope thought of the window seats at the Swanburne Academy, which were so full of embroidered pillows that one could scarcely find a place to sit and read. “It is the fluffiest and loveliest pillow I have ever seen.”
    The girl lifted her hands and revealed tiny bandages of gauze tied about three of her fingers. “Sewing is hard,” she said. The sight of those dear pricked fingers made Penelope’s eyes fill with tears, and the children jumped over one another to reassure her that Cassiopeia was not seriously injured. Cassiopeia proved it by using her fingers to do sums on her abacus, and flicked the beads up and down with nary a wince.
    But Penelope’s heart remained full to bursting. “Thank you all, so very much,” she said, and gazed with affection on each of her three pupils, and on all of her guests as well. “This is the nicest birthday I could possibly imagine.”
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    T HE SERVANTS SOON HAD TO get back to work, but Penelope was used to quick parties, so she did not mind. It was only after Mrs. Clarke, Cook, Margaret, and the others had made their farewells that Beowulf suddenly remembered.
    â€œOne more present!” he cried, running to the windows. “Almost forgot Nutsawoo.”
    Nutsawoo was