Part 50

And Hugh said, 'Do you like England or India best?'

And our cousin replied, 'India ever so much, thank you.'

I never felt such a duffer. It was awful. With all the millions of interesting things that there are to say at other times, and I couldn't think of one. At last I said, 'Do you like games?'

And our cousin replied, 'Some games I do,' in a tone that made me sure that the games he liked wouldn't be our kind, but some wild Indian sort that we didn't know.

I could see that the others were feeling just like me, and I knew we could not go on like this till tea-time. And yet I didn't see any other way to go on in. It was Hilda who cut the Gorgeous knot at last. She said:

'Hugh, let you and I go and make a lovely surprise for Rupert and Sidney.'

And before I could think of any way of stopping them without being downright rude to our new cousin, they had fled the scene, just like any old conspirators. Rupert--me, I mean--was left alone with the stranger. I said:

'Is there anything you'd like to do?'

And he said, 'No, thank you.'

Then neither of us said anything for a bit--and I could hear the others shrieking with laughter in the hall.

I said, 'I wonder what the surprise will be like.'

He said, 'Yes, I wonder'; but I could tell from his tone that he did not wonder a bit.

The others were yelling with laughter. Have you ever noticed how very amused people always are when you're not there? If you're in bed--ill, or in disgrace, or anything--it always sounds like far finer jokes than ever occur when you are not out of things.

'Do you like reading?' said I--who am Rupert--in the tones of despair.

'Yes,' said the cousin.

'Then take a book,' I said hastily, for I really could not stand it another second, 'and you just read till the surprise is ready. I think I ought to go and help the others. I'm the eldest, you know.'

I did not wait--I suppose if you're ten you can choose a book for yourself--and I went.

Hilda's idea was just Indians, but I thought a wigwam would be nice. So we made one with the hall table and the fur rugs off the floor. If everything had been different, and Aunt Ellie hadn't been ill, we were to have had turkey for dinner. The turkey's feathers were splendid for Indians, and the striped blankets off Hugh's and my beds, and all mother's beads. The hall is big like a room, and there was a fire. The afternoon passed like a beautiful dream. When Rupert had done his own feathering and blanketing, as well as brown paper moccasins, he helped the others. The tea-bell rang before we were quite dressed. We got Louisa to go up and tell our cousin that the surprise was ready, and we all got inside the wigwam. It was a very tight fit, with the feathers and the blankets.

He came down the stairs very slowly, reading all the time, and when he got to the mat at the bottom of the stairs we burst forth in all our war-paint from the wigwam. It upset, because Hugh and Hilda stuck between the table's legs, and it fell on the stone floor with quite a loud noise. The wild Indians picked themselves up out of the ruins and did the finest war-dance I've ever seen in front of my cousin Sidney.

He gave one little scream, and then sat down suddenly on the bottom steps. He leaned his head against the banisters and we thought he was admiring the war-dance, till Eliza, who had been laughing and making as much noise as any one, suddenly went up to him and shook him.

'Stop that noise,' she said to us, 'he's gone off into a dead faint.'

He had.

Of course we were very sorry and all that, but we never thought he'd be such a muff as to be frightened of three Red Indians and a wigwam that happened to upset. He was put to bed, and we had our teas.

'I wish we hadn't,' Hilda said.

'So do I,' said Hugh.

But Rupert said, 'No one could have expected a cousin of ours to be a chicken-hearted duffer. He's a muff. It's bad enough to have a muff in the house at all, and at Christmas time, too. But a related muff!'

Still the affair had cast a gloom, and we were glad when it was bed-time.

Next day was Christmas Day, and no presents, and nobody but the servants to wish a Merry Christmas to.