Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Charmain welcomes worried parents

When Charmain awoke, Waif had his big head on the bed, with Charmain's legs under it, and the rest of his body was still lying on the ground, his big body under a mass of white hair almost filling the room . "So you can't make yourself smaller," said Charmain. "I have to figure out a way." Waif gasped a few loud breaths in response, then seemed to fall asleep again.Charmain wrenched his legs out from under Waif's head with difficulty, and squeezed around Waif's huge body, looking for clean clothes to put on.While arranging her hair, Charmain discovered that the hairpin she usually wore seemed to be missing, probably because she lost it when she fell off the cliff.All she has left is a ribbon.My mother always insisted that a good girl should have a clean bow on the top of her head.Charmain had never tried anything else either.

"Oh, well," she said to herself in the mirror, "Mom isn't here anyway, is she?" So she braided herself a thick braid, hung it over one shoulder, and tied it with a ribbon.When she was done, she felt that she looked prettier than usual, her face was rounder, less thin and eccentric.She nodded to herself in the mirror, and walked around Waif to the bathroom. To her relief, after a night, the ice in the bathroom finally melted.The room was filled with the sound of condensation dripping from the pipes, but everything seemed normal, but when Charmain turned on the taps, all four taps came out with cold water, no matter how long it had been running.

"I don't want to take a bath anyway," Charmain said, and went back into the corridor. Peter's voice was not heard.Charmain remembered her mother saying that boys had trouble getting out of bed in the morning.She didn't want to worry about that either.She opened the door and turned left into the kitchen, which was thick with foam.A mass of foam and some large bubbles squeezed past her into the hallway. "Damn it!" said Charmain.She bowed her head, folded her arms, and rushed into the room.It was as hot as the bakery my father used to get his big orders in. "Whew!" she said. "I'm going to take days to use up a bar of soap." Then she said nothing, because if she opened her mouth, her mouth would be filled with suds.Bubbles also got into her nose, and she started sneezing, which created a whirlwind of foam.She bumped into the table again and knocked over another teapot, but she kept pushing until she hit the laundry bag and heard the ding of the pot above it, and she knew where she was.She removed one hand from her face and groped for the sink, then followed it to the back door.She searched for the latch—for a moment she thought it had disappeared in the night, then realized it was on the other side of the door—and finally pushed it open.She stood there panting heavily, spitting out all the soap bubbles, and she blinked the tears from the soap bubbles, and thus began a mild morning.

Crowds of bubbles were squeezed out with her.When Charmain opened his eyes to see it all, he stood there admiring the great bubbles, gleaming in the sun, as they flew towards the lush hillside.She found that most of them broke when they floated to the end of the yard, as if there was an invisible barrier there, but some flew up, and flew, as if they could fly forever.Charmain's eyes followed them up, across brown cliffs and green slopes.One of the slopes must have been the meadow where she had encountered Lubbock, but she couldn't tell which.She raised her eyes and kept looking at the blue sky above the mountain peak.It's a beautiful day.

At this moment, a long stream of sparkling bubbles emerged from the kitchen.When Charmain looked back, the room was no longer filled with foam, but it was still everywhere, more on the fireplace.Charmain sighed, went back into the room, leaned against the sink and opened the window.The effect is obvious.At this moment, two bubbles are flying out of the house at the same time, faster than before, which makes the yard look like a rainbow.The kitchen quickly empties.Charmain soon noticed that there were now four bags of clothes by the sink instead of the two bags of the night before. "Damn it!" said Charmain. "Uncle William, what should I do if I want to have breakfast?"

It was good to hear Uncle William's voice coming out of the bubble. "Just tap on the hearth and say 'Breakfast, please,' dear." Charmain immediately rushed forward hungry.She tapped eagerly on the soapy painted surface. "Please give me breakfast." Then, she had to take a few steps back, a floating tray appeared in front of her, and she touched the glasses hanging on her chest.In the middle of the tray was a plate of sizzling bacon omelets, next to it was a pot of coffee, a mug, toast, jam, butter, milk, a bowl of stewed plums, and on the wet wipes a Cutlery.

"Oh, that's great!" she said, grabbing the tray and walking into the living room before it was covered with soap.To her surprise, there was no trace of the afternoon tea she and Peter had last night inside, and the cart was safely back in the corner; but the room was still old, with some air bubbles that had slipped in and floated on the surface.Charmain went and walked to the front door.She remembered seeing tables and benches in the garden outside the study window as she went to pick pink and blue petals for the spell in the Book of Parchment.She carried the tray around the corner of the house looking for it.

She found it at last, where the sunlight happened to be strongest; overhead, beside the pink and blue bushes, was the window of the study, although there seemed to be little room for a study in the house.Magic is fun, she thought, putting the tray on the table.Although the trees around her were still dripping from last night's rain, the stools and tables were dry.Charmain sat down and enjoyed the most pleasant breakfast, basking in the warm sunlight, feeling lazy and luxurious, very much like an adult.The only thing missing seemed to be a chocolate croissant, like the one her father made, she thought, leaning back on the stool and drinking her coffee.I must tell Uncle William this when he comes back.

She thought that Uncle William must often sit here and enjoy his breakfast.The hydrangeas around her seemed to be the most beautiful in the garden, as if they had been grown just for her pleasure.Each clump of flowers has more than one color.The cluster of flowers in front of her was white, pale pink, and lavender.The leftmost clump next to it is blue, while the right becomes dark teal.Charmain was glad she hadn't let the goblins shovel the bushes when Peter poked his head out of the study window.This disappointed Charmain. "Hey, where did you get breakfast?" Peter asked. When Charmain finished explaining, he stuck his head back and walked away.Charmain stayed where he was, waiting for Peter to come, but hoping he would not come.But nothing happened.Charmain basked in the sun for a while, and it occurred to her that she should find a book to read.She carried the tray into the house and went to the kitchen first, congratulating herself on being clean and efficient.Peter had evidently been there, for he closed the back door, leaving only the window open, and the room filled again with air bubbles, drifting slowly toward the window, and then swiftly away from there.Waif's huge white body could be vaguely seen through those bubbles.Waif raised her huge tail and wagged it violently in front of the fireplace as Charmain approached.A puppy tray containing just enough food for a puppy sits between the soles of her large feet in the air bubble.Waif watched sadly, lowered her huge head, and swallowed the dog food in one gulp.

"Oh, poor Waif!" said Charmain. Waif looked up at Charmain.Her big tail began to wag and tap the fireplace.With every tap, a new tray of dog food appeared.In no time Waif was surrounded by small dog trays, strewn all over the ground. "Don't ask for too much, Waif," said Charmain, passing among the plates.She put the tray on top of the two bags of new clothes, said to Waif, "I'm going to the study to find a book, if you need me, come to me," and walked back.Waif was too busy eating to pay attention. Peter is in the study.His finished breakfast tray was on the floor by the desk, and Peter sat in a chair by himself, busy leafing through a book, a large leather-bound volume on the shelf behind the desk.He looks much cuter today.His hair was dry and clean in tawny curls, and he was wearing a new suit, a green duffel coat, apparently.The clothes were taken out of the backpack, so there were some wrinkles, and some round wet marks could be seen, which were caused by the bursting of air bubbles, but Charmain thought she appreciated it.When Charmain came in, he closed a book hard, sighed, and put it back in its place.Charmain found a length of green wool tied around his left thumb.So that's how he got here, she thought.

"I have no idea," he said to Charmain. "It must be here somewhere, but I can't find it." "What are you looking for?" Charmain asked. "What did you mention about Lubbock last night," Peter said. "I don't know what this is, I remember. I want to look it up. Or do you know them all?" "Not sure—except that they're scary," Charmain replied candidly. "I want to know about them too. What should we do?" Peter pointed to the row of books with his green-knitted thumb. "These books, I know, are wizarding encyclopedias, but you have to know what you're looking for in order to find the right volume." Charmain put on his glasses and leaned forward to read the books.Each had "Magic" printed in gilt letters, with a number underneath it, and a title. "Volume 3: Transference", she read, "Volume 5: Mind Control", on the other side, "Volume 19: Advanced Seed Technique", "Volume 27: Earth Dream Divination", "Volume Twenty-Eight: Cosmic Dream Divination". "I see your question," she said. "I'm going to go through the books in order now," said Peter. "I've just read five. They're all spells that don't make sense." He picked up volume six, which just said "Spells," and opened the book. "You turn to the next one," he said. Charmain shrugged and picked up the seventh volume.The title doesn't seem to help much, it's "Power".She took it under the window sill, where it was relatively empty and bright.As soon as she turned the first few pages, she knew she had found what they were looking for. "Demons: Powerful, sometimes dangerous creatures," she read, "Often confused with 'Elves.'" She turned a few more pages, "Demons: Creatures of hell..." Then came "Half-Elves: Possess the power given by the elves to protect the safety of the kingdom..." Then, turning a few more pages, "Nightmare: specialized demons, usually targeting women..." Then, she slowly and carefully turned down, and after two Ten pages later, she found it. "Lubbock. Got it!" she cried. "Brilliant!" Peter slammed the "Spells" volume shut. "It's almost all pictures. What's in it?" He went under the window sill, leaned over to Charmain, and read the entry together. "Lubbock: A rare creature. The lubbock is a purple insectoid creature that varies in size from a grasshopper to the size of a man. Very dangerous, although luckily only found in the wild now, Or they are only encountered in uninhabited areas. Lubbock will attack any human being in sight, either with its pincer upper limbs or with its powerful long mouth. Ten months of each year, it will kill people Torn into pieces for food, but in July and August, they enter the breeding season, which is especially dangerous; during these two months, they will wait for humans, and once captured, they will lay eggs on them. After twelve Months of hatching, the first lubbock to hatch will eat the others, and the surviving, newborn lubbock will leave its host. That human will die if male, and will be like Birth is normal, and the offspring are called 'Lubokin' (see below). The human female usually dies." My God, I've narrowly escaped death!Charmain thought.Her eyes, and Peter's, quickly moved to the next entry. "Lubbockins: offspring of Lubbocks and human females. These creatures usually have the appearance of human children, except that their eyes are definitely purple. Some Lubbockins also have purple skin, and some are even born with There will be degenerate wings. Midwives will kill the baby if they find out that it is Lubkin, but in many cases, Lubkin will be raised as a human child. They are almost invariably evil, and because Lubkin Borgin can reproduce with humans, and its evil nature will disappear after several generations. It is said that in many remote areas, such as Upper Norland and Montalbino, many residents have ancestors from Luborgin." It is difficult to say what effect this passage had on Charmain and Peter.They all wish they hadn't read it.Uncle William's study room was still sunny, but suddenly felt extremely unsafe, and there seemed to be strange shadows in the corner.Charmain, in fact, felt such suspicious shadows in the whole room.She looked around anxiously with Peter, and looked impatiently out of the window into the garden, fearing some danger.Waif let out a big yawn in the hallway, and the two jumped up in panic.Charmain wanted to rush out of the room to see if the windows at the end of the corridor were really shut.However, she had to take a closer look at Peter for any purple spots first.After all he said he was from Montalbino. Peter turned pale with fright.He had a number of small spots on his nose, but they were all pale orange, and a little new hair on his chin was also orange.His eyes were a rusty brown, quite different from the greenish yellow of Charmain's, but luckily neither were purple.It was easy for her to see all this, because Peter was looking at her just as closely.She felt cold on her face.She could imagine that her face was as pale as Peter's.Finally, they spoke at the same time. Charmain said, "You're from Montalbino. Did your family have purple?" Peter said, "You've seen Lubbock. Did it lay eggs on you?" Charmain said, "No." Peter said, "My mother was called the Witch of Montalbino, but she was from Upper Norland, really. And, she wasn't purple, either. Tell me what that lubbock you saw." Charmain told him how he had climbed out of the window to the meadow up the hill, where Lubbock was hiding among the blue flowers, and— "Did it touch you then?" Peter interrupted. "No, because I fell off the cliff before it touched me," Charmain said. "Fall off the dangling—then why didn't you die?" asked Peter.He backed away a little, as if thinking she was some kind of zombie. "I cast the spell," Charmain told him, very smugly, proud of herself for being able to use real magic. "Flying spell." "Really?" Peter said dubiously. "What flying spell? Where?" "It's written in a book here," Charmain said. "After I fell, I started to float in the air, and then slowly and safely landed on the path in the garden. No need to look in disbelief. When I landed, there was an earth elf named Rollo in the garden. Ask him, if you don't believe me." "I will," Peter replied. "What book is that? Show me." Charmain threw his braids proudly behind his shoulders and walked over to the desk. The Book of Parchment seemed to be trying to hide.What is certain is that it is not where it used to be.Maybe Peter moved.She finally found it, tucked away in the row of Magic, pretending to be a volume in one of these encyclopedias. "There," she said, placing it heavily on top of Charms, "how dare you doubt my words! Now I'm going to find a book and read it." She walked to a row of bookshelves and began to choose books she liked.It didn't look like there were any storybooks, Charmain loved stories, but there were some books with interesting titles.Like, "The Warlock Artist," or "Memoirs of an Exorcist."On the other side was The Theory and Practice of Mantra Chanting, which must have sounded boring, but Charmain liked the one next to it very much. It was called The Twelve-pointed Wand. At the same time, Peter was sitting alone at the desk, impatiently flipping through the "Book of Parchment".Charmain found The Warlock Artist to be full of tiresome preaching, "So our happy little wizard brought to our ears sweet, fairy-tale music." Peter complained angrily , "There are no flying spells in it. I've read them all." "Maybe it was used by me," Charmain said noncommittally.She opened "The Twelve-Forked Magic Wand" and looked at it, thinking it would be very good. "Spells don't work," said Peter. "Where did you find it, honestly?" "It's in there, I told you all about it," Charmain replied. "If you don't believe me, why do you keep asking me?" She took off her glasses, closed the book with a snap, returned to the corridor with a thick stack of books that might be of interest, and slammed the door of the study , leaving Peter alone, retreated to the bathroom, and went straight to the living room.Despite the old musty smell, she decided to stay here anyway.After reading that entry in Magic, she no longer felt safe reading in the sun.She pictured Lubbock looming among the hydrangeas, and sat back firmly on the couch. She read The Twelve-pointed Wand carefully, and even began to understand what the book was about.Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the front door.Charmain, as usual, thought someone else would answer the door, and went on reading. The door creaked open.Aunt Sembroni's voice said, "Of course she's fine, Berenice. She's got her head down in her book, as usual." Charmain looked up from the book and took off her glasses just in time to see her mother enter the house with Aunt Sembroni.Aunt Sembroni was, as usual, impressively dressed in stiff silk.Mrs. Baker wore a demure gray coat with a dazzling white collar and cuffs, and her prettiest gray top hat. I'm lucky I've changed into clean clothes, Charmain began to think, but then it occurred to her that the rest of the room was too inconvenient for the ladies to see.Not only was the kitchen full of dirty dishes and dog bowls, bubbles, dirty laundry, a big white dog, but Peter was sitting in the study.Mother might just find the kitchen, but that was bad enough.And Aunt Sembroni is (almost certainly) a witch, and if she can find the study, she will meet Peter.The mother then wonders what a strange boy is doing here.When the matter of Peter had been explained, the mother would say that in this case Peter would be able to look after Uncle William's house, and Charmain would go home obediently and immediately.Aunt Sembroni would agree, and Charmain would be forced to leave.And so would her peace and freedom come to an end. Charmain jumped up, smiling desperately, her expression so exaggerated and so attentive that she felt her face was about to be sprained. "Oh, good!" she said. "I didn't hear a knock at the door." "You never hear it," said Aunt Sembroni. Mrs. Baker fixed her eyes on Charmain anxiously. "How are you, honey? Everything is okay? Why didn't you take care of your hair?" "I like that," said Charmain, pushing his way between the two ladies and the kitchen door. "Don't you think this hairstyle suits me, Aunt Sembroni?" Aunt Sembroni leaned on her parasol and watched her carefully. "Yeah," she said. "It fits perfectly. You look younger and rounder this way. Is that what you want to look like?" "Yes, yes," said Charmain boldly. Mrs Baker sighed. "Honey, I don't want you to talk so boldly. It's not flattering, you understand? But I'm glad to see you're all right. I stayed up most of the night, listening to the rain, hoping that the roof of this house would die. water leakage." "No leak," Charmain replied. "And worried that you might forget to close the window," her mother continued. Charmain shuddered. "No, I closed the window," she said, remembering how Peter must have left the window on the lawn where Lubbock haunted. "You really don't have to worry, Mother," she lied. "Well, to be honest, I was a little concerned," Mrs. Baker said. "You're leaving home for the first time, understand? I talked to your father. He said you probably won't get food for yourself." She held up the bulging embroidered bag she was holding. "He's packed some more food for you. I'll take it to the kitchen for you, okay?" she asked, walking around Charmain to the inner door. No!help!Charmain thought.She took the embroidered bag, trying to be as gentle and polite as possible, don't snatch it away like she really wanted to, and she said, "Don't bother, Mom. I'll take it in by myself later, and I'll bring the other out for you—" "Oh, what? It's no trouble, dear," replied the mother, still holding on to the bag. "—because I have a surprise for you," said Charmain hastily. "You sit here. That sofa is very comfortable, Mom." She still blocked the door. "Come sit down, Aunt Sembroni—" "But it doesn't take time," Mrs. Baker said. "I put it on the kitchen table so you can get—" Charmain shook her free hand, and with the other she clung desperately to the bag. "Uncle William!" she cried. "Morning coffee! Thanks!" To her great relief, Uncle William's genial voice replied, "Knock the cart in the corner, dear, and say 'morning coffee.'" Mrs. Baker gasped in surprise and looked around for the source of the voice.Aunt Sembroni looked interested, and she walked up to the cart dubiously and knocked it off with her parasol. "Morning coffee?" she said. The room was immediately filled with the warm smell of coffee.A tall silver coffee pot stood steaming on a cart, and beside it were small gilt cups, a gilt milk jug, a silver sugar bowl, and a plate of petit fours.Mrs. Baker let go of the embroidery bag in shock.Charmain hastily placed it under the nearest armchair. "It's wonderful magic," said Aunt Sembroni. "Berenice, come and sit down here, and let Charmain push the cart over to the sofa." Mrs. Baker sat down on the sofa, looking dazed, and Charmain was relieved that their visit had finally transitioned into respectable morning coffee.Aunt Sembroni served the coffee, while Charmain shared the cake.Charmain was standing facing the kitchen door, serving a plate to Aunt Sembroni, when the door opened and Waif's huge face poked out through the crack, evidently attracted by the sweetness of the cake. "Go away, Waif!" said Charmain. "Go! I mean it! You can't come here unless... unless... unless you're decent. Go away!" Waif watched longingly, sighed heavily, and stepped back.By the time Mrs. Baker and Aunt Sembroni had turned carefully with their full little coffee cups to see who Charmain was talking to, Waif had walked away and the door was closed. . "What's that?" asked Mrs. Baker. "Nothing," Charmain answered easily. "Just Uncle William's watchdog. She's a glutton—" "There are dogs here!" interrupted Mrs. Baker, very alert. "I don't like dogs, Charmain. Dogs are dirty. And might bite you! I want you to lock her up." "No, no, no, she's very clean and obedient," said Charmain, wondering if that was true. "It's just—it's just that she eats a lot. Uncle William wants her to go on a diet, so of course she's interested in the cakes here—" The kitchen door opened again.This time, it was Peter's face that appeared through the crack of the door, with an expression as if he had something important to say.The expression turned into panic when he saw Aunt Sembroni and Mrs. Baker. "Here she is again," said Charmain, beginning to despair. "Waif, go away!" Peter took her cue, and disappeared before Aunt Sembroni turned to see him again.Mrs. Baker was more alert than ever. "You worry too much, Berenice," said Aunt Sembroni. "I agree that dogs smell and are dirty and noisy, but there's nothing like a watchdog to keep your home safe. You should be glad Charmain has one." "I suppose so," agreed Mrs. Baker, still sounding utterly unconvinced. "But—but didn't you tell me that this house is protected by your uncle's... er... magic?" "Yes, yes!" said Charmain eagerly. "This place is double safe!" "Of course it is," said Aunt Sembroni. "I don't think anything can come in unless it's invited." As if to prove Aunt Sembroni completely wrong, a ground elf suddenly appeared beside the cart. "Now, come see here!" he said defiantly, small and blue. Mrs. Baker let out a scream and clutched her coffee cup to her chest.Aunt Sembroni gracefully pulled her skirt back from him.The goblin stared at them, obviously confused, and then at Charmain.He's not the goblin who gardens.His nose is bigger, and the blue clothes on his body are more delicate. He looks like the kind of elf who can only issue orders. "Are you an important figure among the goblins?" Charmain asked him. "Well," the earth elf was a little surprised, "you can say that too. I am the leader of this area, and my name is Timminz. I am responsible for leading my team, and we are all very troubled now. Being told that the wizard is not at home, and Either they don't want to see us, or—" Charmain could see that he was angry.She answered quickly: "It's true. He's not here. He's sick. The elves took him out for treatment, and I'll look after the house while he's gone." The goblin squeezed his eyes on his big blue nose and stared at her. "Is what you said true?" Seems like I've been suspected of lying all day long!Charmain was very angry. "It's absolutely true," said Aunt Sembroni. "William Nolan is not at home now. Will you go then, dear goblin. You frightened poor Mrs. Baker." The goblin glared at her, then at Mrs. Baker. "Then," he said to Charmain, "there's no solution, I suppose!" and he disappeared just as suddenly as he had come. "Oh, my God!" gasped Mrs. Baker, clutching her chest. "So small! So blue! How did it get in? Don't let him step on your skirt, Charmain!" "Just a goblin," said Aunt Sembroni. "Cheer up, Berenice. Goblins don't usually harass humans, and I don't know what they do. But I think Uncle William must have some kind of deal with these creatures. Wizards never know." "Ah, I've spilled my coffee—" exclaimed Mrs. Baker, wiping her dress. Charmain took the small coffee cup and slowly filled it again. "Have another cake, mother," she said, passing the plate. "Uncle William hired a ground elf to take care of the garden, and when I saw him, that one was also very angry—" "What is a gardener going to do in the drawing room?" asked Mrs. Baker. Charmain began to despair, as usual, and it was difficult for his mother to understand.She's not stupid, she just never pays attention, Charmain thought. "That's another goblin," she explained anyway. The kitchen door opened and Waif walked in.She went back to her normal size.That said, she's at least smaller than the goblins, and glad to be small again.She hopped up to Charmain and put her nose up against the cake plate. "Seriously, Waif!" said Charmain. "How much have you had for breakfast!" "Is this the watchdog?" said Mrs. Baker tremblingly. "If so," remarked Aunt Sembroni, "she's next to the rat. How much did you say she ate for breakfast?" "About fifty plates full of dog food," Charmain said without thinking. "Fifty discs!" her mother repeated. "I'm exaggerating," Charmain said. Noticing that they were all looking at him, Waif assumed a begging pose, resting his chin on the sole of his foot.She tries her best to look pleasing.There was something pathetic in the way she shook her frayed ear, Charmain thought. "Oh, what a lovely puppy!" exclaimed Mrs. Baker. "Are you hungry?" She gave Waif the rest of her cake.Waif took it politely, swallowed it in one gulp, and went on to beg Mrs. Baker to give her the whole cake on the plate.It made Waif look more emotional than ever. "It's disgusting," Charmain said to Waif. Aunt Sembroni also generously gave Waif a piece of cake. "I must say," she said to Charmain, "that with such a clever dog protecting you, there is no need to worry about your safety, except that you are going to starve." "She's very good at barking," Charmain said.And you don't have to be so sarcastic about me, Aunt Sembroni.I know she's not a watchdog.But as soon as Charmain thought of this, he suddenly realized that Waif was indeed protecting her.She had completely caught her mother's attention away from thinking about the goblins, or the kitchen, or the dangers that Charmaine might be in, and she was trying to get herself back to her original size to do it all. of.Charmain was grateful to her and gave Waif a piece of cake too.Waif thanked her very happily, nuzzled her palm, and turned expectantly to Mrs. Baker. "Oh, she's so cute!" exclaimed Mrs. Baker, rewarding Waif with a fifth cake. She's dying, Charmain thought.Thanks to Waif, though, the rest of the day was peaceful, until finally, when the ladies were about to get up and leave. "Oh, I almost forgot!" said Mrs. Baker, feeling in her pocket. "This letter is for you, dear." She handed Charmain a long stiff envelope with red sealing wax on the back."To Miss Charmain Baker" was written in elegant italics on the envelope. Charmain stared at the letter, feeling her heart beating out of her ears, her chest like a blacksmith striking an anvil.Both her eyes were blurry.The hand holding the letter was also trembling.The king wrote her back.He actually wrote back.She knew it must be the king's letter.The envelope had the same handwriting as the letter she had seen in Uncle William's study. "Oh, thanks," she said, trying to sound as relaxed as possible. "Open it, honey," said her mother. "Looks matter. What do you think?" "Oh, nothing," Charmain said. "Just my leave of absence certificate." This move was a mistake.her mother exclaimed. "What? Your father still expects you to stay in school to learn more culture, dear!" "Yes, I know, but at the end of tenth grade they give everyone a certificate," Charmain made up to himself. "Just in case any of us are leaving. You get it. Everyone in the class will get it. Don't worry." Although the explanation seemed very clever to Charmain, Mrs. Baker was worried.Just as she was panicking, Waif suddenly stood up on her hind legs and walked towards Mrs. Baker, her forefoot drooping pitifully under her chin again. "Oh, sweetheart!" exclaimed Mrs. Baker. "Charmain, if my uncle recovers from his illness and asks you to take this little cutie home, I won't mind at all. I really won't mind." Charmain tucked the King's letter into her girdle, and kissed her mother and aunt Sembroni farewell, neither of whom mentioned the letter again.She happily sent them off down the path among the hydrangeas, with a huge sigh of relief as she closed the front door. "Thanks, Waif!" she said. "You're a clever little dog!" She leaned against the door and opened the king's letter—although I knew he would refuse, she thought, trembling with excitement.If I were him, I would refuse too! The envelope was halfway opened when another door opened, and it was Peter. "Are they gone?" he said. "Finally gone? I need your help. I've been harassed by a group of angry goblins."