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13. “Such a thing never entered my mind, Letty,” replied grandmother
earnestly. “Of course we should do nothing so severe. But Jo must
be made to realize how serious his wrong-doing of yesterday was.
For it is very wrong indeed to neglect or betray a trust, you know,
however slight the consequences may prove. And Letty, dear,
remember that it is the little things, after all, that count in life. The
pennies go to make the dollars and the swift little seconds form
years. Think of the infinitesimal animals at work in the sea, adding
bit to bit through the centuries to make those wonderful coral
islands we read about.
“And it is the same with the naughtinesses in the world. If a wee sin
is committed here and another there, and pardoned or overlooked
with the thought, ‘oh, that did no harm—it was not really wrong,’
why in time the conscience will become hardened and the first thing
one knows, one is in a condition to commit any wicked deed.”
Letty looked up with a serious face, from Mrs. Baker to Mrs.
Hartwell-Jones, who had sat quietly by during grandmother’s little
homily.
“I never thought before how very great the little things are, Mrs.
Baker,” she said. “I hope I can learn to be more careful after this.”
“You are a good, faithful child, and my lecture was not meant for
you, dear. I am glad you spoke for Jo Perkins. Of course we shall not
dismiss him. It would be wrong to set him adrift for so slight an
offense; we must make the punishment fit the wrong-doing. The
offense this time is slight because it turned out all right, but it might
have proved very serious. You know that Christopher tried to swim
and was taken with a cramp in his arm?”
“Perk told me just now. He feels awfully about it.”
“That is news to me,” exclaimed Mrs. Hartwell-Jones. “No wonder
you are feeling nervous and upset over the ‘might-have-beens.’”
14. “Yes,” replied grandmother with a little shudder. “I don’t know what
to say about it because of course Christopher was not actually
forbidden to swim. We did not think about such a question arising.
But grandfather will be home to-night, and then everything will be
all right.”
“What a comfort to have a strong arm to lean upon,” sighed Mrs.
Hartwell-Jones wistfully. Then she turned to Letty. “Run off now and
play, child. Jane is hopping her toes through her shoes with
impatience.”
Letty ran off and the two ladies discussed every detail of
Christopher’s mishap, and how seriously it might have turned out.
“Children can be the greatest sort of cares,” Mrs. Hartwell-Jones said
at length, half laughing but wholly in earnest, “almost nuisances
sometimes; but they are a blessing for all that!” She paused a
moment and then added: “Have you noticed what a fine nature Letty
has, Mrs. Baker? What a splendid chance for the development of a
noble character?”
“I think that what you have agreed to do for her is a wonderful
opportunity for the child.”
“But I should like the tie to be still closer, Mrs. Baker,” exclaimed Mrs.
Hartwell-Jones impulsively. “I am wondering—I desire something
very much, and yet I am not sure that it is wise. I have no one to go
to for advice except my lawyer. I have consulted him, but he is so
cold and businesslike. Might I talk it over with you, Mrs. Baker?”
“Do you mean,” asked grandmother, a look of eager interest kindling
in her eyes, “do you mean that you are considering the question of
adopting Letty?”
“Just that,” replied Mrs. Hartwell-Jones solemnly. “I am thinking
about it a great deal—all the time, in fact. You see, there are so
15. many, many reasons why I should do it, and so few why I should
not; that is, that I can see.”
“That is apt to be the way with things we want very much to do,”
said grandmother mildly. “But as far as I understand the matter, I
agree with you. Will you tell me all about it, please?”
And while Letty played out in the orchard with Jane at being Knights
of the Round Table, her fairy godmother (as she secretly thought of
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones) revealed to Grandmother Baker a plan which, if
carried out, would bring to Letty a more wonderful future than any
of which she had ever dreamed.
16. CHAPTER XVI—UNTYING THE APRON-STRINGS
When grandfather got home he was acquainted promptly with the
misdoings of Christopher and Jo Perkins. After the expected
thrashing had been given—much against grandfather’s tender heart
—and Perk had had his stern lecture, without a word in it of
dismissal—to his mingled astonishment and surprised relief—
grandfather went into the sitting-room to talk events over with
grandmother. Perk and Christopher both felt that great loads had
been lifted off their minds. They had suffered penitence and had
been punished for their wrong-doing, and they were free agents
again.
“My dear,” said grandmother, after she had described minutely all her
feelings during Christopher’s prolonged absence the afternoon
before, “My dear, I have been thinking.”
“Not really!” interjected grandfather with pretended great
astonishment, and chuckled.
“Yes, I have, seriously, and I have come to the conclusion that we
coddle Kit too much; treat him too much as we treat Jane—too
much like a girl, in fact.”
Grandfather looked genuinely surprised this time.
“I begin to think that there is something in this ‘telepathy’ that the
newspapers talk about,” he said, taking an envelope from his pocket.
“Just read this letter from Kit’s father. I got it at the post-office on
my way home this evening.”
17. Grandmother took her son’s letter and put on her glasses.
Grandfather pointed out the page to which he wished to draw her
special attention.
“That is the part I meant,” he said and grandmother read:
“‘I have been thinking a good deal lately about Kit’s and Jane’s
comradeship. Doesn’t it strike you and mother that we make too
little distinction? We are anxious that the children should be
congenial, and in trying to keep their tastes alike and yet have Jane
gentle and ladylike, isn’t there some danger of making Kit girly-girly?
“‘After all, Kit is a boy and Jane is a girl. They will have to draw apart
some day and I am wondering if the time has not come to begin.
Aren’t there some nice village boys in or about Hammersmith? There
used to be. Suppose you let Kit play with them a bit and rough it like
other fellows do. Now that you have found Letty again and she is as
nice a child as she was three years ago, she will make a nice
playmate for Janey, who won’t miss Kit so much. I really think it will
do them both good.’
“Exactly the opinion I had reached,” declared grandmother, dropping
the letter. “We must untie the apron-strings.”
Grandfather looked puzzled for a moment over this expression, then
he laughed heartily.
“That’s a very good way of putting it, my dear,” he said, “only we
must not untie them all at once. Too much freedom at one time is as
bad as an overdose of anything else. Besides, if we begin all at once
to give Kit full swing, it will set him to thinking of his old restrictions
and in his new liberty he will grow very sorry for himself and
consider that he had been greatly abused.
“We must not let him think he’s been molly-coddled. We must be
diplomatic. I shall tell him, in a day or two, that as long as he has
got on so well with his swimming, he might as well go ahead with it.
18. We’ll send him off with Perk, too, now and then, to show Perk that
we still trust him; although I shall go along the first time or two to
see how things are. I do trust Perk, my dear. He is a good lad,
although like all boys, he’s fond of a lark.”
Grandmother sighed, but it was not at the thought of Jo Perkins
enjoying a good time.
“Our baby Kit has gone,” she said dolefully, “and a big boy has come
in his stead. I do hope Janey won’t miss him too much. She has
seemed a little offended at times, when Kit goes off with Billy
Carpenter, but just now her heart is so full of Mrs. Hartwell-Jones,
Letty, and her dolly’s new bed, that she is happy even without Kit,
bless her.”
“How different boys and girls are, from the very beginning,” said
grandfather soberly, as if he had just made a great discovery. “The
girls love their dollies and the boys their swimming holes.”
“Do you realize that you are quoting Tennyson, after a fashion?”
smiled grandmother, and she recited:
“‘Man for the field and woman for the hearth;
Man for the sword and for the needle she.’
“Something else has taken place while you were away. Mrs.
Hartwell-Jones has taken a great fancy to Letty.”
Grandfather and grandmother exchanged very knowing glances at
this. They had often wondered, since the little circus girl had gone to
live with Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, if something more would not come of
the arrangement.
“It would be a great thing for Letty,” said grandmother at last. “Mrs.
Hartwell-Jones believes that the child has a good singing voice.”
“Well, I am sure I should be thankful to see the little girl happy,” said
grandfather. “Letty is a good child and will repay any kindness Mrs.
19. Hartwell-Jones does for her, I am sure. Have you finished with Kit’s
letter, my dear?”
Grandmother caught up the letter from her lap and turned to the
beginning.
“Do they say anything about the date they are to sail?” She asked
the question with mingled feelings. She would be very glad to see
her son and daughter-in-law again, of course, but their return to
America meant the departure of the twins from Sunnycrest and it
really seemed too soon to end their happy visit. The summer had
been very short.
Two or three days later, grandfather opened the new program of
events which he had planned.
“Kit, my boy,” he said at dinner, “as long as you have started in with
this swimming business, I suppose you might as well keep it up. It is
a pity to let that one lesson go to waste.”
Christopher’s face beamed with astonishment and delight.
“You don’t mean to say that you’re going to let me go swimming?”
he cried. “Oh, cricky, that’s bully!”
“Why, yes, it seems to me that I knew how to swim when I was your
age,” went on grandfather. “Suppose we let Janey go into the village
with grandmother this afternoon while you and Perk and I go off on
a little lark of our own. What do you say to the plan, Kit?”
“I think it would be—perfectly splendid, sir!” shouted Christopher in
great excitement.
“All right, then. I’ll have Perk harness the spring wagon.
Grandmother, will you ask Huldah to put us up a bite of something?
A pretty liberal bite, my dear. Learning to swim is hungry work. And I
20. thought we might pick up Bill Carpenter on the way,” he added to
Christopher, “if we see him about anywhere.”
“Are you going to swim, too, grandfather?” asked Jane, folding her
napkin neatly. “I should think it would be horrid in the cold, weedy
water. Please don’t let Kit drown again.”
“Huh!” sniffed Christopher in his most superior manner, “I just guess
there’s not any danger of me drownin’. I can swim. You just ask Perk
if I can’t.”
“Well, that’s nothing to be so smart about. I could swim, too, if I
chose to learn. Girls are just as clever as boys, every bit, only they
don’t like such silly things.”
“The things a girl likes are heaps sillier,” retorted Christopher. “Fairies
and dolls! Ho! There aren’t any such things as fairies, and who’d
play with a doll? An old painted thing stuffed with sawdust!”
Jane’s face grew red and her eyes filled with tears.
“You have always been glad enough to play with dolls and to talk
about fairies when you hadn’t got any horrid boys around,” she said
slowly.
Then her injured feelings overcame her and she ran to her
grandmother and buried her face on her shoulder.
“Oh, grandmother,” she sobbed, “Kit doesn’t love me any more. He
talks to me like other boys talk to girls. I always thought Kit and I
would be just alike forever and ever, but we ain’t—aren’t, I mean—
and it’s all Billy Carpenter’s fault!”
Grandmother whispered comforting words in the little girl’s ear, and
stroked her hair until Jane’s storm of tears was over. Christopher
stood by in awkward silence. He felt sorry and a little taken aback,
for he had not really meant to hurt his sister’s feelings.
21. “I didn’t mean to be a beast, Jane,” he said. “I’m sorry I said that
about your dolls. Stop crying, do, there’s a good fellow. I’m sorry,
honest Injun. I’ll—I’ll stay home!” he gulped heroically, “and play I’m
Oberon or Puck all the afternoon; or I’ll doctor Sally through the
scarlet fever. Stop crying, I say.”
Jane lifted a tear-stained face.
“I don’t want you to stay home,” she said cruelly. “I am glad you’ve
got something to do, ’cause I was only staying home to keep you
company. I’ve got another engagement for this afternoon,” and
lifting her little square chin loftily, she walked out of the room.
So occurred the first real break between the twins. Jane’s tender
little heart reproached her the minute she had closed the door.
“I was rude to him when he was trying to make up,” she thought
miserably. “I wish I hadn’t. And he’s going to be gone all the whole
afternoon! I hope it won’t spoil his picnic with grandfather.”
Just as grandmother and Jane were about to start, Letty appeared in
the pony carriage to take them. Grandmother decided, therefore, to
let Jane go back with Letty and she could follow later. But she
remembered some jelly that she wished to send to Mrs. Hartwell-
Jones and asked the children to wait while she had it packed. Jane
was glad of the delay, for she wanted a chance to make up with
Christopher if possible, and he had gone down to the stable to help
Perk harness the horse. They drove up presently, Christopher looking
so supremely happy that Jane was obliged to acknowledge that her
unforgiving words had not altogether spoiled his afternoon.
“Good-bye, Kit, I hope you’ll have a good time,” she said a little
wistfully.
“Thanks, Janey; wish you were going along,” replied Christopher
graciously. “But girls can’t do everything that boys can, you know.
22. Some day we’ll have a picnic for the ladies, won’t we, grandfather?”
he added politely.
Grandfather kissed Jane and lifted her into the pony carriage beside
Letty.
“Have a nice time at the author-lady’s, little Jane, and if you miss Kit
very much, just let me know and I’ll make him go along next time to
rock your baby to sleep. He’s not a man quite yet, you know.”
“He thinks he’s awful smart, though,” she replied to her grandfather,
and stuck out her tongue resentfully at Christopher over Mr. Baker’s
shoulder.
“Just the same, you’re not allowed to go alone,” she taunted.
Christopher refused to have his spirits damped.
“Grandfather is only going so that I can show him how well I know
how to swim. And he’s not so bad as having girls tagging along,” he
answered coolly.
And grandfather felt that the apron-strings were indeed untied!
23. CHAPTER XVII—GOOD NEWS
Grandfather remembered Christopher’s promise to Jane and did get
up another picnic “for the ladies,” but the ladies included only Jane
and her grandmother. Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and Letty were not invited
for several reasons, chiefly because grandmother had expressed the
wish to have it strictly a family party. She realized that the end of
Jane’s and Christopher’s visit at Sunnycrest was drawing near; that
before very long their father and mother would return and carry the
children back to their home in the city. And so she thought that one
last party, all by themselves, would be very nice. Jane and
Christopher thought so too. They were always happy and contented
with their grandparents.
Of course they went to the woods—the only picnic grounds worth
considering except on circus day. Grandfather drove past the
swimming pool, so that Jane might see the spot where Christopher
had learned to swim and wherein he had almost drowned on that
memorable afternoon. They went on farther yet into the woods. It
was all deliciously green and brown; still and cool. Jane was quite
confident that she would catch sight of a fairy before long.
Grandfather had brought some fishing-tackle, and after the picnic
ground was chosen and the horse unharnessed and made
comfortable, they all sat in a row on the bank of the stream and
fished. At the end of half an hour Jane, to Christopher’s secret envy,
was the only one who had caught anything. It was a fat little perch
that wriggled and shone in the sunlight.
“Oh, the poor little thing!” cried Jane, and covered her face with her
hands while grandfather took it off the hook.
24. “Coward-y cat!” jeered Christopher. “Isn’t that just like a girl! Afraid
of a fish!”
Jane took up the cold, squirming thing and held it tight in both
hands, looking her brother straight in the eyes.
“I am not a coward-y cat, Kit Baker,” she said quietly. “I just couldn’t
bear to see the poor thing being hurt with that dreadful sharp hook.”
Christopher felt subdued. It had not occurred to him to feel sorry for
the fish.
“It’s only a fish,” he muttered. “They don’t feel much.”
“Janey is quite right,” said grandfather. “A truly kind heart always
sympathizes with any animal, however small, that is in pain.”
They fished on patiently for another half hour, not talking much
(Christopher could not keep absolutely silent) for fear of scaring
away the fish, which, however, must have had either a bad fright or
a warning, for they refused to bite or even nibble. Finally
grandmother suggested that it was rather useless to try any longer.
“But one fish won’t go very far,” grumbled Christopher. “Let’s try for
just one more. It’s hungry work, fishing.”
“I think Huldah has packed enough in the basket to keep us from
starving until supper time,” laughed grandmother, “and as there is
only one poor little fish for all of us, suppose we just put him back
into the water?”
“Oh, no,” cried Christopher aggrieved.
“Oh, yes, let’s,” exclaimed Jane. “Poor little fish, we’ll make him
happy. He’s my fish and I guess I have the right to say what shall be
done with him,” she added defiantly, seizing the basket as
25. Christopher made a lunge for it. “If your stomach wasn’t so greedy,
Kit Baker, your heart would be kinder.”
Jane let the wriggling pink fish slip back into the brook, where he
darted out of sight in an instant among the rushes.
The hamper that Huldah had packed certainly did promise to satisfy
the appetite of even the hungriest people in the world. There were
all sorts and conditions of sandwiches; thin and square with the
crusts cut off. Some had slices of chicken inside, others pink boiled
tongue. Still others had tender leaves of dressed lettuce—these were
grandmother’s favorites—and others with jelly. Then there were soft
ginger cakes and crisp sugar wafers; apple pie—Huldah’s famous
apple pie with plenty of cinnamon—hard boiled eggs that had the
yolks beaten up with salad dressing; pears, plums and a whole
chocolate layer cake. There were also bottles of milk and coffee
which latter grandmother heated over a spirit lamp in a tiny
saucepan put in for the purpose. Christopher wanted to build a fire
out of sticks and bits of wood for the coffee, but grandfather said it
was too hot for that.
After the luncheon was over, Jane and Christopher went off to
gather moss and pine-needles. Jane had planned to make a pine
pillow to take home to her mother, who declared that they always
cured her headaches. Letty had promised to help her with the
sewing, for Jane did not like to sew very well, not even to make
doll’s clothes, and it was only a labor of love (or the occasional
desire to be thought grown-up) that could induce her to use a
needle.
Fir trees were somewhat scarce in the grove and the children had to
walk some distance. They left grandfather and grandmother
discussing something in very low, serious tones.
“What are they talking about?” asked Christopher, pointing his
thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his grandparents. “They
26. look like they sometimes do when we’ve been up to something.”
“But we haven’t—not for a long time,” put in Jane defensively. “Not
since the time you played hookey with Perk and drowned because
you didn’t know how to swim.”
“I didn’t play hookey. Grandfather let me go.”
“He didn’t say you might go in swimming.”
“Well, he has since,” returned Christopher triumphantly, as if that
settled the matter. “But something is up,” he added, returning to his
subject. “Do you suppose they’ve found out about our putting that
hard cider we found in the cellar into the pups’ milk?”
“It was only some left-over stuff, and it didn’t hurt the pups,” said
Jane hurriedly, for the idea had been hers. “And it did make them
act funny.”
They both laughed at the recollection.
“Well, then, maybe it’s the green stripes I painted on the pig the day
we pretended he was a zebra in the circus. Grandfather said green
paint was very poisonous. I’d have used brown paint if I could have
found any; it would have been lots more lifelike. Anyhow it didn’t
seem to hurt the pig any, although it did lick a lot off.”
“I know what it is they’re talking about,” replied Jane with an air of
importance. “It’s not the pigs and it’s not the pups. It’s about Letty.”
“Letty! What has she been doing?” demanded Christopher in
astonishment. He had looked upon Letty as so far above naughtiness
as to be considered almost a goody-goody.
“She hasn’t done anything,” explained Jane. “They are just talking
about where Mrs. Hartwell-Jones is going to send her to school this
27. fall. I heard Mrs. Hartwell-Jones say something about it to
grandmother the last time we were there.”
“Oh, is that all!” exclaimed Christopher indifferently, and lost his
interest in the subject immediately.
But, if the twins had known it, Mr. and Mrs. Baker were discussing
something much more interesting than Letty’s school, and that was,
Letty’s whole future. Grandmother had had a very short, very happy
note from Mrs. Hartwell-Jones just before leaving for the picnic. It
seemed that the “lady who wrote books,” after a great deal of
discussion with her lawyer, a long letter from Mrs. Baker, the twins’
mother, some correspondence with Mrs. Drake (whose whereabouts
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones had had a good deal of trouble to discover), and
finally a personal visit from her lawyer, had resolved definitely upon
the great step of making Letty her own little girl.
As soon as they were alone, grandmother gave Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s
note to grandfather to read. It began with the announcement of the
author-lady’s decision, included an invitation for the picnickers to
stop at her house on their way home for congratulations and supper,
and wound up with the request that she be allowed to tell the twins
the news herself.
“I want to see Janey’s face,” she wrote, “when she learns what a
wonderful thing has come to me out of her little idea of being helpful
to a fellow mortal. May the dear child grow up to be as tender and
thoughtful a woman as she is a little girl! She will undoubtedly be
greatly and widely beloved.”
“Isn’t it beautiful the way she speaks of our Janey?” said
grandmother with tears in her eyes, when grandfather had finished
reading the note.
“Does Letty know yet?” he asked.
28. “She is to tell her this afternoon, and we are to stop in on our way
home from the picnic to rejoice with them. You see she invites us all
to supper.”
“That will please Kit,” smiled his grandfather. “You have not given
Jane a suspicion of it?”
“Of course not. Don’t you see that Mrs. Hartwell-Jones wants the
pleasure of telling her herself, or let Letty do it. I wonder what Letty
said and did when she was told, and what they are saying about it
now?”
Letty’s feelings at that moment were really too mixed up and
bewildered to describe. She had had a very happy day, performing
her customary tasks in the morning and driving as usual with Mrs.
Hartwell-Jones in the pony carriage. She had not felt a bit badly (as
Jane had feared she might) at not being invited to the picnic. She
loved the children and their good times dearly, but she was equally
satisfied to be alone with Mrs. Hartwell-Jones.
That usually placid lady appeared extraordinarily excited and restless
to-day.
“Oh!” Letty had exclaimed when she came into the sitting-room that
morning with the breakfast tray, which she insisted upon preparing
always herself. “How pretty you look! Your cheeks are as rosy as
Jane’s!”
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones had laughed and kissed Letty, but she said
nothing of what was on her mind, until the afternoon. It was a
warm, sunshiny day with a sort of hush over the earth. The air was
still and full of sweet, clean country smells. Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and
Letty sat alone together in the large, up-stairs sitting-room. A little
later they were to have a tea-party of two, for Mrs. Hartwell-Jones
always liked a cup of tea or chocolate in the afternoon.
29. “Letty, my dear,” said Mrs. Hartwell-Jones gently, trying to keep the
excitement out of her voice, “please sit here on the stool, close by
me. I have something very important to talk to you about.”
“Something important to talk to me about!” repeated Letty in
astonishment. “Oh, what is it?”
“Sit there, dear child, facing me. Now look up at me so that I can
watch your eyes. Tell me, Letty dear, have you ever thought about
what you would do when you grew up?”
“Not very much; not at all since I have been with you. Before—when
I was with the circus I used to wonder what I could do to get away
from it all. I knew that I could never stand it to go on travelling
about with a circus all my life. Mrs. Drake was very good to me and
the baby was dear! But I hated the life; living in tents, always on the
go; no school, no little girl friends, no home!”
She sat looking at the floor thoughtfully for a moment.
30. “NOW LOOK UP AT ME”
“I suppose I ought to have thought about it more,” she said humbly.
“I am afraid I have taken your kindness too much as a matter of
course, dear Mrs. Hartwell-Jones. I shall try to show you how truly
grateful I am to you for giving me such a happy home! And you
know how delighted I am about boarding-school,” she added
eagerly. “It seems just like—well, almost like heaven to be like other
girls and go to school to learn things and be happy. I shall study
hard and be good in school to show how grateful I am. And then,
perhaps, when I am grown up, I can teach and pay you back for all
you are going to do for me.”
31. “You dear little girl!” cried Mrs. Hartwell-Jones with a sob in her
voice, “I want no thanks but your happiness!
“But now, listen to what I have to say. How would you like being
somebody’s little girl in earnest? To have a real home to go to in
holiday time, and—and some one to love you and be as nearly a
mother to you as it is possible to be?”
Letty looked puzzled and a little frightened.
“Have you found some of my relatives? some one to claim me?” she
asked. “Oh, Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, I don’t want to leave you! I don’t, I
don’t! You have taken as great care of me as my mother could have.
Please don’t send me away!”
“No, no, dear, never. You don’t understand, Letty darling. Do you
know what adoption means?”
“No, I am afraid I don’t,” said Letty meekly. She hung her head and
blushed, embarrassed as she always was at her ignorance, when
asked the meaning of something she did not know.
“It means,” said Mrs. Hartwell-Jones slowly, “that any one who
wishes, and there are no reasons why one should not do so, can
take a little girl or boy into one’s home and make that child her very
own, by law. And it means, Letty darling, that if you are willing, I
intend to take you to my home and make you my own little
daughter!”
Letty sat staring at her with wide eyes. She was too bewildered—too
overwhelmed to speak. Two great tears welled up in Mrs. Hartwell-
Jones’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Then she gave an odd little
cry and stretched out her arms.
“Oh, my little girl, my little girl!” she whispered.
32. Neither of them knew how long they sat there, wrapped in each
other’s arms, not talking except for a quick question and answer
now and then. At last they were interrupted by a hesitating knock on
the door, and Anna Parsons’ voice was heard calling:
“Please, Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, mother says she is afraid the chocolate
will spoil if it waits any longer.”
Letty laughed and springing to the door, threw it wide open.
“Oh, Anna,” she cried, “I am the happiest girl in the whole wide
world! Bring in the chocolate and cakes, quick.”
Anna turned up her nose a trifle. It seemed rather a greedy thing to
say that one was the happiest girl in the world at sight of hot
chocolate and cakes—even if they were Madeira cakes. But then, she
did not know the wonderful thing that had happened to Letty.
33. CHAPTER XVIII—A CABLEGRAM
In spite of Letty’s appearing to be overjoyed at the arrival of the
chocolate and cakes, she did not eat very much. For some reason
which Anna did not understand she did not seem able to keep quiet
for an instant. Every second she would jump up to fetch some trifle
for Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, for which that lady had not felt the slightest
need; or if she could think of nothing to do, would simply whirl
about the room in an ecstasy of motion. Anna watched her with
astonished curiosity.
These little afternoon tea-parties occurred every day now, and Anna
Parsons was always included. Usually on the days when the twins
and their grandmother were not present, Mrs. Hartwell-Jones did
most of the talking, entertaining her little guests with descriptions of
her travels across the seas or telling them bits of stories that she
had read or written herself. But to-day it was Letty who talked.
Talked! She became a perfect chatterbox. Indeed, she seemed like a
different person altogether, with her sparkling eyes, red cheeks and
prattling tongue.
Presently Anna Parsons asked some question about the ponies,
Punch and Judy, and that set Letty off on her recollections of the
circus. Soon she had Anna and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones both laughing
heartily over her tales; little Anna nearly fell off her chair in her
merriment over the account of the trick elephant’s puzzled behavior
when they softened the clapper of his bell so that it would not sound
when he rang it.
Then she told all the droll stories she could remember about Poll,
Mrs. Goldberg’s parrot; and about the wonderful day Emma Fames
34. had spent with her at Willow Grove and how she had saved Jane
and Christopher from the bear.
“This mention of the twins and Willow Grove set Mrs. Hartwell-Jones
thinking of the letter she had received from the children’s mother.
Both she and grandmother had written to Mrs. Baker, Jr., and the
answer had been most satisfactory, both earnest and enthusiastic.
Mrs. Baker had described her visit to Mrs. Grey and told what a
sweet, cultured, refined woman she had found her to be, and how
carefully brought up and guarded Letty had been.
“Unless these three years with a traveling circus since her mother’s
death have spoiled her, I am sure you could find no more ladylike
child than Letty,” she had written. “Certainly she has sufficient birth
and breeding to overcome any little bad habits she may have
acquired, and in the proper surroundings I am sure she will grow
into a charming, refined gentlewoman. Moreover, she may prove to
have an inestimable gift. Her mother told me that she herself sang
quite well when she was a younger woman, and that she had a
strong conviction that Letty had inherited her voice.”
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones sat thinking over this letter and all the little
incidents of the child’s past life that Letty had told her from time to
time, and she breathed a little prayer of thanksgiving that a precious
soul had been entrusted to her care.
“But I thought you didn’t like the circus,” exclaimed Anna at last,
when she could laugh no more.
“I didn’t,” answered Letty positively, becoming grave all at once. “I
didn’t like it at all!” She was silent for a moment and then said
soberly: “Anna, did you ever get into a deep, dark wood with lots of
low, thorny bushes and vines among the trees that caught your feet
and tangled them and pricked you when you tried to walk through?
And then, all at once you came out into the bright, bright sunshine?
Then, if you looked back at the wood, while you were safe outside in
35. the warm sunshine, it did not look so dreadful, but you found that it
had some rather bright spots in it here and there. Well, that is how I
feel about the circus.”
“Oh!” said Anna wonderingly.
“Oh, oh, it is so nice to be out in the sunshine again!” sighed Letty
clasping her hands and looking across at Mrs. Hartwell-Jones with
tears in her eyes. “So nice!”
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones opened her arms without a word, and Letty ran
to them with a glad little cry. Anna stared at the pair in amazement,
quite unable to account for this display of emotion. Then, with a
sudden instinct that she was not wanted for the moment she rose,
gathered the teacups softly together on the tray and tiptoed out of
the room.
It was some time before Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and Letty were again
interrupted. This time it was the sound of a horse’s hoofs in the road
below and then Grandfather Baker’s voice calling “Whoa!”
“Our supper guests are arriving,” exclaimed Mrs. Hartwell-Jones
smiling.
“Oh!” cried Letty, jumping to her feet. “May I tell them?”
“Of course you may, my dear, that is, the children. The grown-ups
already know. I could not keep my secret from Mrs. Baker.”
Letty flew out of the room, and met the Baker family mounting the
stairs. She looked so radiantly happy that Christopher felt sure that
there was going to be something particularly good for supper.
When they had all gathered in the sitting-room, after the greetings
were over, Letty announced her glorious news, and then, oh, what
excitement prevailed! The old Parsons house had never known
anything like it. Every one talked at once, no one knew what any
36. one else was saying, and no one answered questions. Indeed,
nobody expected to be answered at first, nor said anything of any
importance. They just “oh’d” and “ah’d” and kissed one another and
laughed—and cried a little bit too, the feminine part. At this point
Christopher drew his grandfather aside and said in a disgusted voice:
“There they go again! What makes women and girls cry so much,
grandfather? They’re as bad when they’re pleased as when they’re
sorry.”
Letty’s cheeks grew redder and redder, and her eyes danced and
sparkled until they were fit companions for the stars that were
already beginning to peep through the darkening sky outside. For it
was growing later and later. Christopher began to be afraid that
nobody would remember about supper. He could not be the one to
remind Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, since he was her guest, but the picnic in
the woods seemed farther and farther in the past until at length he
decided that it had happened the day before—or maybe years ago!
A fellow’s stomach can’t stay empty forever, you know, and he began
to wonder what were the first symptoms of starvation.
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones came to herself and a realization of her duties as
hostess in time, however, to save him from the actual pangs of
starvation, and Mrs. Parsons, who had come up with Anna “to see
what it was all about” hustled down-stairs again with the promise
that she would have supper on the table “in a jiffy.”
At table the grown-ups, who all sat together at one end of the table,
seemed to have a good deal to say to each other that was serious,
but the children were brimful of fun and nonsense, and Letty kept
the twins in a gale of laughter, just as she had kept Anna Parsons
and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones in the afternoon.
After supper the children went out-of-doors and sat on the steps in
the sweet night air while Letty sang to them. They grew very quiet
and sober in the soft, solemn darkness. Presently Christopher said
37. briskly, by way of breaking what he thought was beginning to be an
awkward silence:
“I guess you’re some happy to-night, Letty. How does it feel to be
somebody’s little girl after you haven’t belonged to anybody for so
long?”
Instead of answering Letty suddenly began to cry. She only now saw
how very lonely she had been these past three dreary years.
“There now, you rude boy, you’ve hurt her feelings. I hope you’re
satisfied,” exclaimed Jane indignantly. “How would you like to be told
you didn’t belong to any one?”
“But I do belong to some one, and I always have. But Letty didn’t,
until Mrs. Hartwell-Jones took her, and I don’t see why she has to
cry just because I spoke the truth,” argued Christopher.
“Kit is right,” said Letty, drying her tears. “I didn’t belong to any one
before and it makes me so happy now to think that I’m really going
to be somebody’s little girl again that—that I had to cry.”
“Huh! Had to cry! Why don’t you laugh if you’re glad? Why, I’d laugh
for a week if I was going to belong to somebody that had as many
good things to eat as Mrs. Hartwell-Jones always has.”
“Why, Kit, would you like to leave father and mother?” exclaimed
Jane, much shocked.
“I didn’t say that, but Mrs. Hartwell-Jones certainly does know how
to feed a fellow,” and Christopher smacked his lips.
Letty saw the word “greedy” trembling on Jane’s tongue and to
check it she began quickly to talk about her good fortune.
“I am not to go to boarding-school, after all, because Mrs. Hartwell-
Jones said she would be too lonely without me,” she said with a
38. happy laugh. “Oh, just think of having a home to go back to every
day after school! And the girls won’t snub me because of being a
little circus girl!” she exclaimed, and, to Christopher’s vexation,
began to cry again.
Jane grew very thoughtful all of a sudden. She thought of her own
home-coming each day after school. She remembered that
sometimes—quite often, indeed—she had not wanted to go home at
all; had thought it very stupid to sit in the house and study. She
would much rather go to the house of a schoolmate, or bring a
friend home to play with her. But mother did not approve of visiting
on schooldays, and Jane’s good times always had to be put off until
Friday and Saturday during term-time. Mother was always at home
to welcome her, and to ask about her lessons, quite as much
interested in everything that had happened as if she, too, were a
little girl. Then Christopher would get home from his school and the
twins would have a jolly romp together before study time. Still Jane
had found it dull at home at times. She wondered why, when she
thought of how much she loved her mother and when she saw how
happy it made Letty to think of going home to a woman who was
very dear and sweet but who wasn’t her own mother after all—not
really and truly her mother.
The children had not spoken for some time. Christopher was busying
himself with trying how many stars he could count without changing
his position. Suddenly a shadowy figure whirled toward them out of
the darkness. Letty caught her breath and half rose to her feet.
Christopher grasped the step with both hands and ejaculated:—“Oh,
cricky!” He grew very pale for a moment but controlled his feelings
bravely. But Jane screamed outright and threw both her arms
around Letty’s neck.
But the shadowy figure turned out to be only Jo Perkins on his
bicycle. He carried a small envelope which he handed to Christopher.
39. “It’s a cablegram, Kit,” he said. “Run up to your grandfather with it,
quick. It came about supper time and Huldah said she didn’t know
but it might be something important and that I’d better ride in with
it.”
Perk propped his bicycle against the steps and waited while the
twins rushed up-stairs.
“It’s from father and mother,” shouted Christopher, tumbling up the
stairs in the lead. “What does it say, grandfather, oh, what does it
say?”
Jane scrambled up behind her brother.
“They’re coming home, they’re coming home!” she sang blissfully.
“When, grandfather? When?”
Grandfather looked a bit startled at this abrupt entrance. He fumbled
for his spectacles, put them on and unfolded the cablegram carefully,
while grandmother leaned over his shoulder, almost as impatient as
the children.
“We sail ‘Metric’ Thursday. All well,” read grandfather.
“I knew they were coming, I knew it!” cried Jane happily. “When will
they get here, grandfather?”
Then grandfather, grandmother and Jane began talking all at once,
while Christopher whistled “The Campbells are Coming” as the most
appropriate tune he could think of and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and Letty
stood hand in hand, smiling upon them all happily. A few weeks ago
this little scene of rejoicing would have made Letty very sorrowful,
but now she had her own unspeakable joy.
Outside in the soft summer night Jo Perkins sat on the fence and
waited in comfortable unconcern.
40. CHAPTER XIX—SYMPTOMS OF MEASLES
“Jane,” said Christopher to his sister three days later, “a week is an
awfully short time.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Jane.
She knew that when Christopher began to speak in that tone he
had, something in particular to say.
“I mean that in a week mother and father will be here and——”
“A week isn’t a short time to wait to see them when we haven’t seen
them for a long, long summer,” interrupted Jane indignantly.
“Well, it’s a short time when it’s all we’ve got left of staying here,
isn’t it?” retorted Christopher.
Jane’s face lengthened. She had not thought of that side of the
question.
“Do you think they are going to take us right straight home?” she
asked slowly.
“Why, of course. Father’s been away from his business so long that
he’ll just have to get back to it. I know enough to know that,” replied
Christopher in his most exasperatingly superior tone.
But Jane was too deep in her own thoughts to be provoked. She was
trying to understand the queer feeling that Christopher’s words
brought to her heart. Surely she was not sorry that her father and
mother were coming home? Oh, no, the thump her heart gave told
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