CHAPTER XVIII
A CABLEGRAM
In spite of Letty’s appearing to be overjoyed at the arrival of thechocolate and cakes, she did not eat very much. For some reason whichAnna did not understand she did not seem able to keep quiet for aninstant. Every second she would jump up to fetch some trifle for Mrs.Hartwell-Jones, for which that lady had not felt the slightest need; orif she could think of nothing to do, would simply whirl about the roomin an ecstasy of motion. Anna watched her with astonished curiosity.
These little afternoon tea-parties occurred every day now, and AnnaParsons was always included. Usually on the days when the twins andtheir grandmother were not present, Mrs. Hartwell-Jones did most of thetalking, entertaining her little guests with descriptions of her travelsacross the seas or telling them bits of stories that she had read orwritten herself. But to-day it was Letty who talked. Talked! She becamea perfect chatterbox. Indeed, she seemed like a different personaltogether, with her sparkling eyes, red cheeks and prattling tongue.
Presently Anna Parsons asked some question about the ponies, Punch andJudy, and that set Letty off on her recollections of the circus. Soonshe had Anna and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones both laughing heartily over hertales; little Anna nearly fell off her chair in her merriment over theaccount of the trick elephant’s puzzled behavior when they softened theclapper 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 had spent withher at Willow Grove and how she had saved Jane and Christopher from thebear.
“This mention of the twins and Willow Grove set Mrs. Hartwell-Jonesthinking of the letter she had received from the children’s mother. Bothshe and grandmother had written to Mrs. Baker, Jr., and the answer hadbeen most satisfactory, both earnest and enthusiastic. Mrs. Baker haddescribed her visit to Mrs. Grey and told what a sweet, cultured,refined woman she had found her to be, and how carefully brought up andguarded Letty had been.
“Unless these three years with a traveling circus since her mother’sdeath have spoiled her, I am sure you could find no more ladylike childthan Letty,” she had written. “Certainly she has sufficient birth andbreeding to overcome any little bad habits she may have acquired, and inthe proper surroundings I am sure she will grow into a charming, refinedgentlewoman. Moreover, she may prove to have an inestimable gift. Hermother told me that she herself sang quite well when she was a youngerwoman, and that she had a strong conviction that Letty had inherited hervoice.”
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones sat thinking over this letter and all the littleincidents of the child’s past life that Letty had told her from time totime, and she breathed a little prayer of thanksgiving that a precioussoul had been entrusted to her care.
“But I thought you didn’t like the circus,” exclaimed Anna at last, whenshe could laugh no more.
“I didn’t,” answered Letty positively, becoming grave all at once. “Ididn’t like it at all!” She was silent for a moment and then saidsoberly: “Anna, did you ever get into a deep, dark wood with lots oflow, thorny bushes and vines among the trees that caught your feet andtangled 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 youlooked back at the wood, while you were safe outside in the warmsunshine, it did not look so dreadful, but you found that it had somerather bright spots in it here and there. Well, that is how I feel aboutthe circus.”
“Oh!” said Anna wonderingly.
“Oh, oh, it is so nice to be out in the sunshine again!” sighed Lettyclasping her hands and looking across at Mrs. Hartwell-Jones with tearsin her eyes. “So nice!”
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones opened her arms without a word, and Letty ran tothem with a glad little cry. Anna stared at the pair in amazement, quiteunable to account for this display of emotion. Then, with a suddeninstinct that she was not wanted for the moment she rose, gathered theteacups softly together on the tray and tiptoed out of the room.
It was some time before Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and Letty were againinterrupted. This time it was the sound of a horse’s hoofs in the roadbelow 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-upsalready know. I could not keep my secret from Mrs. Baker.”
Letty flew out of the room, and met the Baker family mounting thestairs. She looked so radiantly happy that Christopher felt sure thatthere was going to be something particularly good for supper.
When they had all gathered in the sitting-room, after the greetings wereover, Letty announced her glorious news, and then, oh, what excitementprevailed! The old Parsons house had never known anything like it. Everyone talked at once, no one knew what any one else was saying, and no oneanswered questions. Indeed, nobody expected to be answered at first, norsaid anything of any importance. They just “oh’d” and “ah’d” and kissedone another and laughed—and cried a little bit too, the feminine part.At this point Christopher drew his grandfather aside and said in adisgusted 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 sparkleduntil they were fit companions for the stars that were already beginningto peep through the darkening sky outside. For it was growing later andlater. Christopher began to be afraid that nobody would remember aboutsupper. He could not be the one to remind Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, since hewas her guest, but the picnic in the woods seemed farther and farther inthe past until at length he decided that it had happened the daybefore—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 ofstarvation.
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones came to herself and a realization of her duties ashostess in time, however, to save him from the actual pangs ofstarvation, and Mrs. Parsons, who had come up with Anna “to see what itwas all about” hustled down-stairs again with the promise that she wouldhave 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, butthe children were brimful of fun and nonsense, and Letty kept the twinsin 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 thesweet night air while Letty sang to them. They grew very quiet and soberin the soft, solemn darkness. Presently Christopher said briskly, by wayof 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 besomebody’s little girl after you haven’t belonged to anybody for solong?”
Instead of answering Letty suddenly began to cry. She only now saw howvery lonely she had been these past three dreary years.
“There now, you rude boy, you’ve hurt her feelings. I hope you’resatisfied,” exclaimed Jane indignantly. “How would you like to be toldyou didn’t belong to any one?”
“But I do belong to some one, and I always have. But Letty didn’t, untilMrs. Hartwell-Jones took her, and I don’t see why she has to cry justbecause I spoke the truth,” argued Christopher.
“Kit is right,” said Letty, drying her tears. “I didn’t belong to anyone before and it makes me so happy now to think that I’m really goingto 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 fora week if I was going to belong to somebody that had as many good thingsto 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 tofeed a fellow,” and Christopher smacked his lips.
Letty saw the word “greedy” trembling on Jane’s tongue and to check itshe 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 ahappy laugh. “Oh, just think of having a home to go back to every dayafter school! And the girls won’t snub me because of being a littlecircus girl!” she exclaimed, and, to Christopher’s vexation, began tocry again.
Jane grew very thoughtful all of a sudden. She thought of her ownhome-coming each day after school. She remembered that sometimes—quiteoften, indeed—she had not wanted to go home at all; had thought it verystupid to sit in the house and study. She would much rather go to thehouse of a schoolmate, or bring a friend home to play with her. Butmother did not approve of visiting on schooldays, and Jane’s good timesalways 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 andthe twins would have a jolly romp together before study time. Still Janehad found it dull at home at times. She wondered why, when she thoughtof how much she loved her mother and when she saw how happy it madeLetty to think of going home to a woman who was very dear and sweet butwho wasn’t her own mother after all—not really and truly her mother.
The children had not spoken for some time. Christopher was busyinghimself with trying how many stars he could count without changing hisposition. Suddenly a shadowy figure whirled toward them out of thedarkness. Letty caught her breath and half rose to her feet. Christophergrasped the step with both hands and ejaculated:—“Oh, cricky!” He grewvery pale for a moment but controlled his feelings bravely. But Janescreamed 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.
“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 itmight be something important and that I’d better ride in with it.”
Perk propped his bicycle against the steps and waited while the twinsrushed up-stairs.
“It’s from father and mother,” shouted Christopher, tumbling up thestairs in the lead. “What does it say, grandfather, oh, what does itsay?”
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 fumbledfor his spectacles, put them on and unfolded the cablegram carefully,while grandmother leaned over his shoulder, almost as impatient as thechildren.
“We sail ‘Metric’ Thursday. All well,” read grandfather.
“I knew they were coming, I knew it!” cried Jane happily. “When willthey get here, grandfather?”
Then grandfather, grandmother and Jane began talking all at once, whileChristopher whistled “The Campbells are Coming” as the most appropriatetune he could think of and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and Letty stood hand inhand, smiling upon them all happily. A few weeks ago this little sceneof rejoicing would have made Letty very sorrowful, but now she had herown unspeakable joy.
Outside in the soft summer night Jo Perkins sat on the fence and waitedin comfortable unconcern.