CHAPTER XXII
REAL LEAVITTS AND OTHERS
The storm overtook Peter and Nancy on a lonely road that Peter hadtaken as a short-cut home.
At a sharp flash of lightning Nancy clutched Peter's arm.
"Pe-ter! Oh-h! It's silly for me to be afraid! It's only when itcrackles!"
"I thought we could make Freedom before it broke. But I guess not.Here comes the rain!"
It came, in a blinding deluge.
"Sit close to me, Nancy. We must get to a house _somewhere_ along thisroad!"
"B'lindy's bones certainly did feel right," Nancy giggled, excitedly."Oh-h!" at another flash. "_Pe-ter_! I'm--I'm such a coward. Don'tyou think that's the worst?"
Peter hoped that it wasn't. He did not mind at all the flashes thatsent little quivers of alarm through Nancy and made her huddle closerto him; he enjoyed the sense of protecting her, though his face, bentgrimly upon the puddled road ahead, gave no hint of his real feeling.
"If this bus only had its curtains! Are you soaked?"
"You are, too, Peter! Do you suppose this is a cloudburst? Can thecar make it?" For the little Ford was floundering uncertainly alongthe flooded road.
"What an end to our picnic," declared Peter, disgustedly. "Ha--ahouse, as I live! See ahead there."
Through the sheet of rain Nancy made out a low-gabled cottage almosthidden by the trees.
"It looks deserted," she declared, disappointedly.
"It'll be shelter, anyway. Deserted nothing--hear the dog! When Istop make a dash for the door."
The dog's bark was by way of a welcome rather than a warning, for, ashe bounded toward the road, his shaggy tail wagged in a most friendlyway. As Nancy, following Peter's command, made a dash for shelter, thedoor of the cottage opened hospitably and a little old woman, unmindfulof the fury of the rain, reached out to draw Nancy in.
"Come right in! Bless me, you're soaked." She had a cheery, pipingvoice and a way of repeating, "well, well, well," as though everythingon earth was an exciting surprise.
"Won't your young man come in, too. Sit right over here by the fire!I told sister Janie that I'd light a few sticks of wood to keep itcheery. It got so dark-like. I'll set the kettle over and have a cupof tea in the shake of a dog's tail. When it storms in these parts it_does_ storm, dearie! How wet you are!" She fussed over the fire andover her kettle and over Nancy's wet blouse. "Now, Janie, isn't itnice to have folks come here out of the storm?"
Then Nancy, through the gloom of the storm, made out that Janie wasanother little old woman sitting in an old arm chair in the window.Quite unmindful of the storm, she was tranquilly knitting.
"Folks don't come by this road so often," she smiled back.
"Aren't you afraid--sitting there?" Nancy cried. As she spoke therecame a flash of lightning followed almost simultaneously by a roar ofthunder that threatened the weather-beaten walls.
The sister called Janie waited smilingly, her head cocked on one sideas though she enjoyed the storm. "Afraid, honey? Goodness, no.Saphrony and I've lived through too many of these storms to be afraid!Isn't the Lord watching over us just like all folks?"
"And didn't He just bring you poor souls here out of the storm?" addedthe older woman. "This tea will steep in a minit and I'm goin' to callthat boy in!"
Peter had been trying to fasten a makeshift arrangement that would keepNancy's seat dry. He was glad enough to give it up at their hostess'call. He looked so much like a drowned cat with the water drippingfrom his hat and shoulders that Nancy was as concerned as Saphrony andJanie.
"You poor children," Saphrony cried, running around Peter in a flutterof worry. "Take your coat right off this minit! Ain't I _glad_ Istarted that fire! Fetch another stick, Janie. Well, well, well, nowain't it a nice storm that brings folks here for shelter?"
The fire did feel good against their soaked backs and Nancy and Peterenjoyed the chatter of the two funny, fussy little old women. Thekettle sang merrily, too, and steamed invitingly. Janie, at hersister's bidding, opened a treasure-chest in the other room and broughtfrom it a piece of fruit cake, wrapped in a red and white napkin.
"A bite'll taste good with our tea," Saphrony explained, apologetically.
"Aren't they the cutest pair?" Nancy whispered to Peter. "And isn't itthe funniest little house?"
There seemed to be only the living room and kitchen combined and thebedroom adjoining. The furniture in it was very old and very worn, buteverything was spotlessly clean. The red and white cover on the table,the braided rugs on the uneven floor; and the piece-work cushions inthe armed chairs added a homey, cosy touch that made up for the littleluxuries lacking. Even in the storm the room was cheery.
Nancy forgot the storm in her enjoyment of the situation. Janieremoved the red and white cover and spread a very worn white cloth.Saphrony took from a cupboard built in the wall a shiny pewtersugar-bowl and cream pitcher. Peter, amid a storm of protest from bothlittle women, drew up some chairs.
"Now you stay right there by the fire," cried Saphrony. "We like tofuss! Janie and I don't have folks here often. The hot tea'll warmyou."
The tea tasted very good, both Peter and Nancy declared over and over."It's just like a party," Nancy added, nibbling on the thinnest shavingof fruit cake. Her evident pleasure set both little old ladies off ina soft cackling of satisfaction.
"Do you two live here all alone?" Nancy asked, passing her cup for moretea. "It seems so lonely."
"Lonely--not a bit! Janie and I've lived here all our lives. Not manyfolks come 'long this road, but we don't get lonesome--not a bit!There's always something to do. Folks just gets lonesome and miserablewhen they're idle, I always tell Janie. A little more cake, Mister----"
"Peter," laughed Nancy. "Well, I shall remember this storm becauseit's given us such a jolly half-hour, as well as a drenching! Oh,_look_--the sun!"
Through the mist of rain and the purple gloom the sun burst warm andgolden, pouring through the bare windows into the little room, touchingevery corner and cranny with a cheerful glow.
"How wonderful," Nancy exclaimed. "It's the bright lining, allright--the cloud has turned inside out! I believe," she turned toPeter, "that when the sun does shine it shines brighter--here! You twohave magic."
"Janie and I never shut it out," laughed the sister Saphrony. "We sayit's God's way of smiling and frowning. There's no storm but whatpasses and we're just mighty glad you two children came 'long this way.Goin' to Freedom?"
Afterwards Nancy said to Peter that that had been the most curiousthing about the two friendly little old women--that they had not rightat first asked who they were nor where they were going!
Peter answered from the window. "Yes--we thought this road would beshorter." Then, to Nancy: "Do you think we can venture now? I guessthe storm's passed."
Nancy nodded. "We'd better start. My aunts are worrying dreadfully,I'm afraid. But we've loved it--here. May we come again sometime?And may we not know who it is that has given us shelter?"
"Why, yes--I never thought to tell! Most folks know us, but maybeyou're new in these parts. We're Saphrony and Janie Leavitt."
"_What!_" cried Nancy with such astonishment that Peter turned from thedoor. "Why, I--_I_ am Anne Leavitt!" she said in very much the sameway she had spoken in the French class, four years before.
The two little old women laughed. "I guess you're one of the HappyHouse Leavitts--they're _real_ Leavitts. Sister Janie and I are onlyplain Leavitts," Saphrony explained with a twinkling in her eyes thatseemed to say that to confuse real Leavitts with plain Leavitts wasvery, very funny. "Are you Miss Sabriny's niece?"
Nancy avoided the question. "Aren't you any relation to us--up atHappy House?"
"Not as anybody ever knew of. There's Leavitts and Leavitts all overNew England, I guess. We've always been poor as Job."
"Well, I shall always pretend we're related," declared Nancy, warmly,"because it's been so nice here!"
/> While Peter was carefully tucking her into the seat with much lamentingthat it had gotten so wet, Nancy was staring reflectively at the funnylittle weather-beaten cottage. From the door smiled the two sisters.
"I wish," she said, "that I could take a piece of their philosophy backto Happy House!" She leaned out to wave her hand once more. "Hasn'tit been fun? I'm glad now that it stormed."
As they splashed along toward Freedom, Nancy fell into a sudden quiet.Her mind was held by an overwhelming desire to tell Peter, in this lasthour she might have alone with him, the whole truth--that she, like thetwo sisters they had left, was not a real Leavitt, of that day back incollege, of Anne's pleading and her yielding. Twice she opened herlips to speak, then shut them quickly. There was something in Peter'sstrong profile that made her afraid. Once he turned quickly and sawher eyes upon him with a frightened, troubled expression in theirdepths.
"What is it, Nancy?" he asked tenderly.
She couldn't tell him--she could not bear to see his face when he knewthe truth! She tried to speak lightly.
"I was thinking how much I'd grown to like--things--around here and howI hate to--go away. Peter, will you keep Nonie and Davy doing happythings--like other children. And, Peter--do you hate people that--actlies?"
Peter laughed--Nancy was so deliciously child-like. Then he suddenlycolored to the very roots of his hair.
"Generally--I haven't much use for people that can't stick pretty wellto the truth. But when there may be some reason--someone may startdoing it for someone else----" he stopped abruptly. Nancy stared aheadwith startled eyes. Did he know? But, no, how could he! It had onlybeen an accident that he had so nearly hit upon the truth.
She could not tell him--she need not tell him; in a few days she wouldsay good-by and go away and never see him again! Theirs had been apleasant friendship, for awhile she would miss it, but she'd be justplain Nancy Leavitt again, playing with Claire at Merrycliffe or withDaddy somewhere in the mountains or at the seashore, working,too--beginning life. After a while these weeks at Happy House wouldseem a curious memory--a dream!
Suddenly she shivered.
"Freedom--at last!" exclaimed Peter, increasing his speed. Ahead theysaw the gleam of roofs through the trees. "And it looks as thoughthey'd caught the storm worse than we did!"