'We're going to-morrow, anyhow,' said Robert. 'Don't,' he added,
with a good-boy expression on his face--'don't let's be ungrateful
for our blessings; don't let's waste the day in saying how horrid
it is to keep secrets from mother, when we all know Anthea tried
all she knew to give her the secret, and she wouldn't take it.
Let's get on the carpet and have a jolly good wish. You'll have
time enough to repent of things all next week.'
'Yes,' said Cyril, 'let's. It's not really wrong.'
'Well, look here,' said Anthea. 'You know there's something about
Christmas that makes you want to be good--however little you wish
it at other times. Couldn't we wish the carpet to take us
somewhere where we should have the chance to do some good and kind
action? It would be an adventure just the same,' she pleaded.
'I don't mind,' said Cyril. 'We shan't know where we're going, and
that'll be exciting. No one knows what'll happen. We'd best put
on our outers in case--'
'We might rescue a traveller buried in the snow, like St Bernard
dogs, with barrels round our necks,' said Jane, beginning to be
interested.
'Or we might arrive just in time to witness a will being
signed--more tea, please,' said Robert, 'and we should see the old
man hide it away in the secret cupboard; and then, after long
years, when the rightful heir was in despair, we should lead him to
the hidden panel and--'
'Yes,' interrupted Anthea; 'or we might be taken to some freezing
garret in a German town, where a poor little pale, sick child--'
'We haven't any German money,' interrupted Cyril, 'so THAT'S no go.
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