The Penderwicks on Gardam Street Read Online Free Page B

one wagon wheel did get caught in a towel hanging from Jane’s bureau—and down tumbled a pile of laundry, including a pair of red-and-yellow-striped kneesocks.
    Sprawled on her bed, Jane looked up from the book she was reading,
The Island of the Aunts.
“So that’s where my soccer socks have been. Batty, you don’t happen to see the rest of my uniform anywhere, do you? We have a game tomorrow.”
    Batty was too sleepy to find a missing uniform in all that clutter. “Actually, I want you to tell me a story.”
    “I’m in the middle of a chapter. I could read the rest out loud to you.”
    “But I wouldn’t understand it.” Batty knew she was close to crying. She fought hard against it, but one tear managed to escape and roll down the side of her nose.
    “She’s going to cry,” said Skye.
    “I am not.” A second tear joined the first.
    Jane shut her book and patted the bed beside her. Batty gratefully clambered up.
    “Let me think of a story,” said Jane. “Oh, I know. Once upon a time—”
    “No Sabrina Starr,” interrupted Skye. “I couldn’t stand it. Not tonight.”
    “Sabrina Starr happens to be excellent for times of stress. That was not, however, what I had in mind. Once upon a time—”
    “And no Mick Hart, either.” Mick Hart was Jane’s soccer-playing alter ego, a rough-mouthed professional from England. During soccer season, Skye heard more than enough about him, as she shared not only a bedroom but also a soccer team with Jane.
    “I don’t care who you tell about,” said Batty.
    “Thank you, Batty. Onceuponatime”—Jane paused and looked at Skye, who shrugged and pointed her binoculars out the window—“there lived a king and queen who had three daughters, all princesses and greatly beloved by the people of their country.”
    “What was the country called?”
    “It was called Cameronlot. The oldest princess was beautiful and kind. The second princess was brilliant and fearless. And the third princess was a spinner of tales, a fountain of creativity, a paragon of discipline, and all of Cameronlot declared her the most fascinating and talented princess who had ever lived.”
    “Ahem,” said Skye from the window.
    Jane ignored her. “Still, the king and queen felt that something was missing from their lives. ‘We need just one more princess,’ said the queen. ‘One who…’”
    “One who what?” asked Batty, for Jane had stopped.
    “Why, one who can do what the other three princesses can’t.”
    “Like what?” This was Skye again, being not at all helpful.
    “She could understand the animals,” said Batty.
    “Yes, of course!” exclaimed Jane. “The king and queen needed a princess who could understand the animals, and so they had a fourth princess.”
    The door opened and Rosalind wandered in, looking as though she’d been staring into strange and unfamiliar places.
    “You’ve come back!” cried Batty, running to her.
    “And you’ve got leaves in your hair,” said Skye.
    Rosalind reached up and seemed surprised to find that, yes, she had leaves stuck to her curls. Nervously she plucked them out and let them drop to the floor.
    “Where have you been?” asked Jane.
    “I don’t know. Walking. And lying down, too, I guess.”
    It didn’t matter to Batty where Rosalind had been. What mattered was that now she was back. “Daddy read to me about Scuppers,” she said. “But then I wanted another story, and Jane was telling me one about princesses, but I want you to tell me one.”
    “All right, honey.” Rosalind sank down onto Skye’s bed. “In a minute.”
    Skye and Jane were also relieved to see Rosalind come home, leaves and all. She was the eldest—the dependable—Penderwick, and dependable people should rally their troops in times of difficulty. They shouldn’t run out of the house and slam the door. Right now, though, Rosalind didn’t seem to have much rallying in her. Jane decided she needed encouragement.
    “Your pineapple upside-down cake