ened if it had ended in
Margaret's saying she'd run away by herself without us helping her, as I
know--I have said so two or three times already, I'm afraid: it's
difficult to keep from repeating if you're not accustomed to writing and
feel very anxious to explain things clearly--as I know she really would
have done.

And then there was the smaller worry of wondering what sort of weather
there was going to be on Wednesday, which did matter a good deal.

I shall never forget how thankful I felt in the morning when it came,
and I awoke, and opened my eyes, without any snorting for once, to hear
Peterkin's first words--

'It's a very fine day, Gilley--couldn't be better.'

'Thank goodness,' I said.

He was sitting up, as usual; but I don't think he had stared me awake
this morning, for he was gazing out in the direction of the window,
where up above the short blind a nice show of pale-blue sky was to be
seen; a wintry sort of blue, with the early mist over it a little, but
still quite cheering and 'lasting' looking.

'All the same,' I went on, speaking more to myself, perhaps, than to
him, 'I wish we were well through it, and your princess safe with her
old nurse.'

For I could not have felt comfortable about her, as I have several times
said, even if _we_ had not promised to help her. More than that--I do
believe she was so determined, that supposing mamma or Mrs. Wylie or any
grown-up person had somehow come to know about it, Margaret would have
kept to her plan, and perhaps even hurried it on and got into worse
trouble.

She needed a lesson; though I still do think, and always shall think,
that old Miss Bogle and her new nurse and everybody were not a bit right
in the way they tried to manage her.

I hurried home from school double-quick that morning, you may be sure.
And Peterkin and I were ready for dinner--hands washed, hair brushed,
and all the rest of it--long before the gong sounded.

Mamma looked at us approvingly, I remember, when she came into the
dining-room, where we were waiting before the girls and Clement had made
their appearance.

'Good boys,' she said, smiling, 'that's how I like to see you. How neat
you both look, and down first, too!'

I felt rather a humbug, but I don't believe Peterkin did; he was so
completely taken up with the thought of Margaret's escape, and so
down-to-the-ground sure that he was doing a most necessary piece of
business if she was to be saved from the witch's 'en