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Whilst Waiting for the Motor
BY
MADELINE OYLER
Her name was Isabel, and she really was a very nice, good little
girl--when she remembered. But you can't always remember, you know; you
wouldn't be a little girl if you could, and this happened on one of
those days when she didn't remember.
Of course Peter forgot too; but then you would expect him to, for he was
only a boy, and boys, as I suppose you know, cannot use their brains in
the way that girls can.
The two had spent their morning in the usual way, had breakfast, fed the
rabbits, said "Good-morning" to the horses, got mother a bunch of
flowers from their own gardens (Isabel's turn this morning), seen daddy
off, and then had lessons.
You wouldn't have guessed for a moment that it was going to be a bad
day; everything had gone well. Peter had actually remembered that Madrid
was the capital of Spain, always a rather doubtful question with him;
and Isabel had said her eight times with only two mistakes, and they
were slight ones.
So you may imagine they were feeling very happy and good, because it was
a half-holiday, and, best of all, because Auntie May was coming over
with her big motor at three o'clock, to take them back to tea with
grandpapa.
I should like you to understand that it was not just an ordinary tea,
but a special one; for it was grandpapa's birthday, and, as perhaps you
know, grandpapas don't often have birthday parties, so it was a great
occasion.
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