"This model is Dale Lynch's. I am taking it to him. When I see my guardian, I shall make him buy it for the Forsyth Mills.Gordon Forsyth."
"This model is Dale Lynch's. I am taking it to him. When I see my guardian, I shall make him buy it for the Forsyth Mills.
Gordon Forsyth."
Cornelius Allendyce looked up from the bit ofpaper. He had suddenly recalled the frightened little girl he had first brought to Gray Manor.
"Who'd believe that the child had the nerve?"
"That's what I said. Well, she ran off with it, Kraus gave chase, Tom headed toward Cornwall, then switched off on an unimproved road and came to grief. Just as Kraus was about to overtake them the child ran off into the wood. Tom didn't have the vaguest idea what it was all about, but he tried to head off Kraus and when Kraus started for the wood he did a little wrestling trick that surprised the fellow, got him down, tied him in the Ford and went himself in search of Miss Gordon. When he came back after an hour's search he found Kraus and the Ford gone and he walked back to South Falls. That's all."
"That model may be worth a lot, but it is not worth another tragedy to this house," groaned Cornelius Allendyce.
"No. It is worth a good deal—but not—that much."
A few moments' deep silence prevailed. Wrinkles of worry twisted the lawyer's face. What a mess it all was, anyway—he had urged Robin to go to the Granger's in hopes that she'd bring the two families into close intimacy again and instead of that she had gotten herself into this fix. If they found her safe and sound she ought to be spanked and taught to keep her hands off the Mill affairs untilshe was older. But down in his heart he knew this was only a vexatious expression of his concern—you couldn't punish Robin for anything.
"As her guardian I appreciate your alarm. I share it with you, not alone because Miss Forsyth was a guest at my house but because I took a great fancy to the child. It struck me, as I looked at her, that her coming to Wassumsic—to the Manor, might change things, here, quite a bit."
"It has—it will," mumbled Mr. Allendyce. For a moment, just to relieve his feelings, he wondered if he might not confide in this very human man the ordeal he must face with Madame Forsyth when his reckoning came.
"My wife is prostrated with it all. She does not know the particulars but she is deeply concerned. I do not like to add to your worry but do you think there is any possibility that the child returned to the road, and that Kraus, freed from Tom's rope, captured her and went off with her?"
"Why, every possibility in the world!" shouted Robin's guardian. "Why did you hug that idea to yourself? We'll telephone the New York police. He's sure to make straight for the city."
Both men welcomed action. They rushed to the library and put in a long distance call and then, while waiting, paced the room's length back and forth. Harkness, shaking and white and miserable, glued his ear to the crack in the door, hopeful for one crumb of comforting news.
Below stairs Mrs. Budge, flatly refusing to believe that "Miss Robin" could be lost just when she had learned to love her, beat up a cake for her homecoming, unmindful of the tears that splashed into the batter.
In the little sitting-room they had shared, Beryl, who did not even have the heart to play with Susy, sat with her nose against the window watching the ribbon of road over which anyone would come if they came. That was why she was the first of the Manor household to spy the dilapidated Ford approaching, snorting up the incline. Something about it made her think of the general dilapidation of the Forgotten Village. It might be some word! She rushed down the stairs, two steps at a time, past the startled Harkness, through the big front door. The strange-looking car had turned into the Manor gate. A man with long white whiskers was driving it. And yes, a bareheaded girl, who looked like Robin, sat on the back seat. ItwasRobin. Beryl waved her hand wildly and Robin answered. But who rode with her? Beryl's flying feet came to a quick halt.
"As sure as I'maliveit's the Queen of Altruria!"
Turning, Beryl rushed back to the Manor.
"Harkness!Harkness!" she cried, bursting in through the door. "Robin's coming! She'shere!And she's brought the Queen of Altruria with her! Oh,what'llwe do?" For surely some ceremony befitting royalty should be prepared.
"The Queen ofwhat—" cried Mr. Granger andCornelius Allendyce rushing from the library. "Oh, the girl'scrazy—" asserted the lawyer. Nevertheless he ran to the door, followed by Mr. Granger and Harkness and Beryl and Hannah Budge and Chloe, who had heard Beryl's glad cry in the kitchen.
At close range the dilapidated Ford looked even more dilapidated; Robin, letting her royal companion talk terms of payment with the bewhiskered scion of the Forgotten Village, clambered out the moment the car stopped and fell into Beryl's arms. From their shelter, after the briefest instant, she lifted her face to greet her guardian and found him staring at the Queen in a sort of stupid unbelief.
"I brought—" Robin started an introduction, but did not finish. For, recovering, with an obvious effort, his natural manner of politeness, her guardian was hurrying down the steps to the little car.
"Madame Forsyth, I did not expect—"
CHAPTER XXIVMADAME FORSYTH COMES HOME
"No. I judge from all your faces no one expected me!" exclaimed Madame Forsyth coldly, extending to Cornelius Allendyce the tips of her fingers. "Harkness, you look as though you were seeing a ghost!"
Her rebuking words had the effect of galvanizing poor Harkness' limbs to action—but not his tongue. Though he hobbled down the steps and took the bag from the lawyer's hand, not a word could he speak from sheer stupefaction.
And Hannah Budge so forgot her long years of loyalty to the House of Forsyth as to cry out—"Oh, Miss Robin!" before so much as one word of greeting for Madame Forsyth.
"You could 'a clean knocked me over," she explained to Harkness afterward, "Our Madame going away as fine as you please with that baggage of a Florrie who was as full of tricks as a cat after a mouse, and coming back in that old car that had moss on it, I do believe, and with Miss Robin, too, who they all thought was lost thoughIknew better. Somethingtoldme to beat up that cake yesterday!"
"And Miss Robin didn't know Madame was Madame," explained Harkness, his face perplexed. "She and Miss Beryl here've been thinking shewas some mysterious lydy or other—Williams says they got it in their little heads she was a Queen hiding—"
"Madame hidingwhere?" snorted Budge.
"Well,Ican't make nothing out of it. My head goes 'round in a circle like. Only Williams says that lydy must be the lydy the young lydies visited, mysterious like, just afore Christmas and the lydy's our Madame all right and that's what I say my head goes 'round in a circle!"
"Your tongue, too, Timothy Harkness. Well, there's lots going to happen now, or my name ain't Hannah Budge. First thing, I s'pose, she'll clear that Castle young 'un out of the house and then your Miss Beryl. And mebbe send Miss Robin off to school somewheres to get these common notions out o' her little head. You say they're all talking upstairs now?"
"Only Madame and the lawyer man. Mr. Granger's gone down to the Mills to send word to his home that Miss Robin's found."
"Saints be praised!" murmured Mrs. Budge, devoutly.
Up in her little sitting-room Robin and Beryl sat arm in arm, and Robin told Beryl the whole story of her adventure. On the window seat beside them lay the square box containing Dale's model.
"I just ran, Beryl, as fast as I could andanywhere. I was so frightened I didn't stop to look. I felldown twice and the second time I was so tired I could scarcely get up. But I had to. And then I thought I'd found a path, and I followed it, but it stopped at a ravine that was,oh, so deep. Well, I knew I was lost. I called and called and no one answered. And I heard all sorts of queer noises as though there might be wild beasts. One came very close, I'm sure, though I couldn't see it. And I was dreadfully hungry. I sat down on a log and cried, too—my feet ached so and my arms ached so from carrying this box. I decided to bury it and leave a note telling about it, for, honestly, Beryl, I didn't think then I'd live an hour longer, but I didn't have a pencil and when I started to dig with my hands the ground was so gooy that I couldn't bear to. Oh, I'll never forget it." She shuddered and Beryl held her hands tighter. "And it began to get dark. I tried to be brave and say nothing could hurt me, but I couldn't help but hear the funny noises and I was soawfullyalone. I started to walk again, just somewhere, because when I walked I couldn't hear all the sounds and every now and then I'd call out. And just as it was almost pitch dark in the wood something big came rushing toward me and sprang at me and, Beryl, I fainted dead away! Well, the next thing I knew something was licking my face. And someone was saying something queer, and Beryl, it was Cæsar and that Brina from our House of Rushing Water! Cæsar had heard mecall and found me, and then he had barked and howled until Brina came with a lantern."
Beryl jumped up and down in excitement.
"What happened then?" she cried.
"Brina carried me—and that box—to the house in the wood. It seemed I'd gotten most to it and didn't know it. And the Queen was awfully frightened. But she wouldn't let me say a word; she made Brina put me in her bed and she covered me with blankets and she fed me herself, something hot and oh, so good. And she kept petting me and cuddling me for I guess I shook like a leaf. You see, I couldn'tbelieveI was safe and sound; I kept seeing that dog jump at me! And finally she sang to me, the nicest old-fashioned song and I went to sleep, and I never opened my eyes until this morning, and there she stood by my bed with a tray of nice breakfast. She wouldn't let me tell her how I got lost until I'd eaten every crumb. And then I felt so cosy and warm and safe that I told her everything—everything, all about Mother Lynch and how my plans for the House of Laughter had failed at first, and then the Rileys and what I thought of the Mills, and how horrid Mr. Norris was and about Susy and poor Granny and Dale's model, and then what I'd done at Grangers'. I just got started and I couldn't stop. And Beryl, I told heragainhow my aunt was an unhappy old woman who worried over her own troubles so much that she didn't have time forother people's. Wasn't that dreadful?" And Robin caught up a pillow and buried her face in it.
Beryl looked troubled.
"Yes, thatwasdreadful. What ever did she say?"
"She didn't say anything. She picked up my tray and went out, and I felt the way I had that other time, all fussed, because I'd bothered a Queen with my silly affairs. And I could have sworn then she was a Queen, Beryl, she had such a dignified way of being sweet and she smelled so nice and perfumy—a different perfume. And that Brina had put the gorgeousest nightgown on me, too."
"When did you first know the Queen was your aunt?" Beryl broke in.
"Beryl Lynch, on my honor, not until my guardian called her Madame Forsyth! After she took my tray out she came back, and she did look sort of funny, now I remember, the way one does when one decides suddenly to do something you hadn't dreamed of doing, and she told me Brina had gone into the village to hunt up some sort of a vehicle to get me back to the Manor. And I didn't think until the last moment that she meant to come, too. And all the way over I was nearly bursting thinking how surprised you'd be and what fun it would be to have the Queen visit us. Oh, dear!" And Robin drew a long breath, half sigh.
"Well, something'll happennow," groanedBeryl, in much the same tone Budge had used. "When she finds out about Susy and me!"
And below in the library the same thought held Robin's guardian—something must happen, now.
He had gone there to wait while Madame Forsyth freshened herself after her long ride. And while he waited, in considerable apprehension, he planned the course he would follow; if Madame refused to accept little Red-Robin as her heir, because she was a girl anddifferent, why, he'd take her back with him to his own home. She could live with him and his sister until Jimmie came back and he'd even adopt her if Jimmie would let him. And he'd take Beryl, too, if Robin wished—and he'd see Susy was put with some nice family.
But where in the world had Robin found her aunt—or her aunt found Robin. Everyone acted as though they were knocked stupid by the mystery—no one had offered a word of explanation. He rubbed his forehead as though it might have circles, too.
"Which shall we hear first?" a voice asked behind him, "Howyouhappened to bring little Robin here—or howIdid?"
The words startled him more because of their tone than their unexpectedness. And turning, he saw (to his immense relief) that Madame Forsyth was smiling—and in her eyes was a softened look, though they were shadowed with fatigue.
"I am immensely curious, I must admit, as to where you found Robin, but I feel that I owe you the first explanation."
He told then, of his first visit to Patchin Place and of his finding little Robin in her curious surroundings.
"I really cannot say just what put the notion in my head of taking her to the Manor—I think it was something appealing about the child."
"You are more honest to admit that than I expected, Cornelius Allendyce. Your silence in regard to her being a girl might seem inexcusable to me only that I am glad, now, that you kept silence. For I would have most certainly, then, sent her back. And—I am glad that never happened. You seeIcan be honest, too."
"Before I can explain my finding the child in this last plight of hers I must tell you a little of my 'wanderings' since I left the Manor. They were not far. I went to New York and reserved passage on a steamer sailing for the Mediterranean the next week. That evening I saw the 'for sale' notice of a house in the Connecticut woods, which advertised absolute seclusion. I telephoned to my banker, who has been in my confidence, and he made a hurried trip to Brown's Mill and bought the house, just as it stood. The next day I discharged Florrie, cancelled my sailing reservations, picked up a strong German woman for a cook, bought a dog and rode out tomy new home. It offered all that I had hoped it would. There I planned to find a change that would be a rest, to forget the world about me and live in my past, which was all I had. And for several weeks I did—until two girls broke in upon my precious privacy."
She told of Robin and Beryl's first visit and then of their second, and of the gifts they brought from the Manor.
"I confess it was a shock to me to discover that this child was—Gordon Forsyth. Yet it was the shock I needed to rouse me from my depression. For, like you, I fell quickly under the girl's charm. From that day on I found I could not hold my thoughts to my past—in spite of me they persisted in dwelling upon the present—and the future. You see I am frank with you."
Cornelius Allendyce nodded. He dared not speak for he did not want to betray the relief he felt.
"I do not think I would have returned to the Manor for several weeks yet, for my health has singularly benefited by my—unusual change, except that this escapade of Robin's made me feel that I was needed here. Something she said made up my mind for me, rather quickly. Cornelius Allendyce—that child has a great gift. It is the gift of giving. An unusual talent in the Forsyth family, you are thinking! But like all talents it ought to be trained and directed and strengthened and my work is—to do it. I had thought my life lived—but it is not, and I amhappy to have found it so. I am too old, perhaps, to learn the new ways but I am not too old to safeguard them."
"You are a wonderful old woman," the lawyer answered, quite involuntarily and with such instant alarm at his audacity that Madame Forsyth smiled.
"Oh, no. I am not wonderful at all. I am revealing my heart to you, now, in a way I do not often open it, but I shall, to my last day, probably, be a proud, overbearing old woman with a sharp tongue. You, however, will know what is underneath."
There was a moment's silence, then Madame Forsyth told him of Cæsar's finding Robin in the woods and giving the alarm.
"The child was utterly exhausted. I cannot bear to think of what might have happened if we—had not been living there. Thank God we found her. May I summon the girls? I am curious to see more of this rather unusual young person my niece has attached to my household."
Then the lawyer remembered Beryl's great good fortune and that nothing had been said concerning that. How happy Robin would be!
In answer to Madame's summons Robin and Beryl came to the library, nervously sedate in manner and with fingers intertwined in a close grip.
Madame beckoned to them with her jeweled white hand.
"Come to me, Robin. Are you sorry to find thatyour mysterious friend by the Rushing Waters—is your aunt?"
Robin advanced slowly, her eyes on her aunt's face.
"No, oh, no! Only—maybeyou'resorry about—me—being a girl and such a small one—and lame, too—"
"Oh, mydear!" And Madame Forsyth held out her arms impulsively and Robin, her face aglow, snuggled into them.
Every moment of that day something exciting and significant seemed to happen. Ever so many people called, and it was fun to see their surprise at finding Madame home. Aunt Mathilde, (Robin could not make the name sound natural) upon introduction, had acted as though she almost liked Susy, and Susy had looked very cunning in the new dress the nurse had made for her. And she hadn't said Susy would have to go! Then Robin flew off, the very first moment, with Beryl to find Mrs. Lynch andhugher over the wonderful fortune and talk about the farm which must be very near Wassumsic. Then Beryl played for Aunt Mathilde and Aunt Mathilde had looked as though she "felt funny inside!"
And then Dale had come with Tom Granger, both of them looking haggard from anxiety and lack of sleep. They came in while Beryl was playing. Robin was glad of that for it gave her a momentto think what she must say to Tom Granger in explanation.
She did not need to say anything, however. Tom knew the whole story, from his father and from Dale. He and Dale had become fast friends.
He caught Robin's hand and pumped her small arm until it ached.
"I had to see you to believe you'd turned up," he laughed. "You certainly gave us a scare we won't forget in a hurry! But you're a good little sport and I'm coming around, if I may, to take you for a ride—before I have to go back to school."
"Well, I never want to gofastagain in my life," cried Robin, coloring under the meaning glance Beryl shot at her.
Dale greeted her more shyly, and because Madame Forsyth and Cornelius Allendyce were talking to Tom, and Beryl had eyes and ears only for the nice-looking lad, no one overheard what passed between them.
"Miss Robin, I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you! You should not have taken such a risk—just for my model."
Robin looked at Dale with shining eyes. Would she tell him of her "pretend?"
"Yousavedmylife once," she exclaimed, impulsively.
"Idid!"
"Yes—a long time ago. I was hunting in alittle park in New York for my doll that I'd left there and you found me, crying. And you took me home—to Patchin Place. I guess maybe you forgot, because you were big and I was a little bit of a thing!"
Dale stared at her for a moment, then he laughed.
"Why, ofcourse—I remember now. Youwerea little bit of a thing, with blue eyes and a blue tam. You asked me what a Ma was! Yes, I'd clean forgotten." He sobered suddenly, and Robin knew it was because he rememberedwhyhe had forgotten. His father had been hurt that evening.
He looked very big now and very much grown up and Robin wondered, with a wild confusion sending her blood tingling to her face, would he remember that she had kissed him and called him her Prince? She watched him, trembling. But no, he did not remember!
"Well, you've more than repaid me forthatlittle thing," he said. "Someone else would have found you if I hadn't. And please promise, Miss Robin, you won't take any more chances for me!"
So Robin locked her precious "pretend" away in her heart—not to be forgotten, but to be enjoyed, as a big-little girl enjoys taking out childish toys or dolls or fancies, dusting them carefully, caressing them tenderly, putting them back reverently—and feeling tremendously grown-up!
A silvery, shimmery young moon shone down upon two heads close together at a wide-open window. The one was dark and the other red. And the same young moon audaciously winked at the whispered confidences exchanged in the brooding quiet of the night.
"Oh, Robin, doesn't it seem anagesince you went off to Granger's?——So much has happened. I don't feel like the same girl——Tom Granger's awfully nice looking——his eyes areblue, Robin——oh, I won't let myselfthinkof going to New York until Mom and Pop are settled somewhere away from the Mills——Robin, you're soquiet——I should think you'd be bursting—"
"I'm glad my aunt was nice to Susy and your mother and—Dale. Beryl, she's going to make Norris take that invention——"
"Well, I never dreamed that old toy really amounted to anything—"
"—— —— —— ——"
"Beryl, don't you love the stars?You'requiet now——"
Beryl giggled.
"Robin—I just remembered! Do you realize we gave our—Queen—her own book for Christmas?"
"Beryl, assureas anything! Oh, how funny!"
EPILOGUEA STORY AFTER THE STORY
In a hammock hung between two leafing apple trees, a woman lay, so very still that she seemed sleeping. A fitful breeze stirred the pale foliage over her head, now and then showering her with pink petals from the lingering blossoms; from beneath her rose the damp sweet fragrance of soft earth and green grass, nearby a meadow-lark sang plaintively; somewhere a robin called arrogantly to his mate in the nest; from the valley, stretching below the sloping orchard, a violet mist lifted.
A tender smile played over the lips of the reclining woman and her eyes stared through the lacy canopy of green into the blue sky, where fleecy clouds sailed off to the west and south.
A lingering echo went singing through her heart. "It is all yours, Moira Lynch! It is all yours!" The beauty around her—the promise of spring, the green of orchard and meadow and distant hill, the rest, the contentment—the happiness, and oh, most precious, the fulfilment.
There was never a day now, in Mother Moira's life, so busy that she could not snatch a moment to go over, in reverent appreciation, the blessings that were hers. And no longer were her dreams—for nothing could change the dreaming heart of thelittle woman—for herself or even for her big Danny; they were for her fine lad, a man now, and Beryl, working so earnestly for her ambition, and little Robin, who would alwaysbelittle Robin, and the imp of a Susy, ruddy cheeked and happy-hearted.
How long, long ago seemed those days when, a slip of a girl, she had dreamed on that other hillside of a future that would be hers; how dazzling had been the pictures she had fancied; how much she had dared to ask. In her youthful bravado she had laughed at Destiny and had made so bold as to declare Destiny might even then be weaving a bit of gold into the drab fabric of her life.
(Faith, was not little Robin her bit of gold? Had not the wonderful change begun in their lives after little Robin came to the Manor?)
Five years had passed, since she and her big Danny had moved from the village to the little farm that was "just around the corner." During them she and big Danny had been alone a great deal of the time, excepting for little Susy; for Dale and Beryl, after settling them snugly in the old-fashioned farmhouse, (painted as white as white with a new barn for the gentle-eyed cow, and a pen for the pigs, and a trim little run-way for the chickens) had gone away, Dale to an engineering college, Beryl to live with Miss Allendyce and take her precious violin lessons, and lessons in languages and science. But Mother Moira was never lonesome, for mere miles could notseparate a heart like hers from those she loved!
There had been significant changes in the village for her to watch develop. The old Mill cottages had been torn down and across the river had been built a cluster of white houses, each with its own yard "going right around it," and trees and a bit of garden. There was a new school house, too, and a new corps of teachers, and a hospital and a library. Robin and her aunt had opened this only a month before.
And the House of Laughter had been enlarged to meet the increasing demands upon it; there were rooms for the girls' clubs and the boys' clubs, and a billiard room and a bowling alley, and an athletic field with a basketball court and a baseball diamond.
(Sir Galahad in his scarlet coat still hung over the mantel which Williams had built. Robin would not let anyone change that.)
Mrs. Riley lived in the upper floor of the House of Laughter and took care of it.
The Manor car, with Madame Forsyth, passed often now through the streets of the village and from it Madame nodded pleasantly to this person and that, stopping sometimes to ask one Mill mother concerning her sick child, another of her husband—and another whether she had finished the knit bed-spread upon which Madame had found her working one afternoon when she had called. Madame had herself regularly visited the new Mill houses during the process of construction and took delight in dropping inupon the newly organized school while classes were in session.
"I'll be the same proud, overbearing old lady," she had told her lawyer, but she had been mistaken—she could never be quite that again, for she had found too much pure delight in doing the little things Robin quite artlessly suggested—little things which had not been easy at first and which had seemed to demand too great a sacrifice of her pride.
The passing of time for the three at the Manor, Madame, Mrs. Budge and Harkness, was marked, Mother Lynch well knew, by Robin's coming and going. For, when her Jimmie had returned from southern seas, Robin had insisted upon going straight to him, and it was not until her aunt had laid aside the last shred of her old prejudice and invited Robin's father to the Manor for a long visit that Robin had consented to look upon the Manor as her "home," though, even then, she steadfastly asserted "part" of her time must be spent with Jimmie.
While at the Manor James Forsyth had painted his "Wood Sprite," which won for him quick and wide recognition, and ever afterward Robin and Madame Forsyth referred to it as "our picture."
No, Mother Moira was never lonesome.
A gay voice roused her now from her happy reverie, footsteps rustled the grass, cool hands, with a touch as light as the blowing petals, closed over her eyes.
"Dreaming again, little Mom? You're incurable!" And Beryl, with a laugh, dropped upon the ground close to the hammock, one hand closing over her mother's.
"It's a bit of a cat-nap I'm stealing," fibbed Mother Moira, blushing like a girl. Her eyes lingered adoringly on the glowing, flushed face close to hers. "Where have you been, Beryl?"
"Susy coaxed me off to her fairy spring. It's really a lovely little nook she's found and she's made a doll's house in the hollow of an old tree. She's a funny little thing—almost elfin, isn't she? Are you sure she isn't too much trouble for you and Dad, Mother?"
"Trouble? Bless the little heart of the colleen, it's something happening every minute for it's an imp of mischief she is, but, Beryl, I like it. It keeps my own heart young."
"As though your heart would ever grow old! You're like Robin. Oh, mother, you can'tknowhow lonesome I've been over there in Milan for the sight of you and this little place. I think my soul, the one poor dear Jacques Henri tried to find in me and didn't—wakened one night when I actually cried myself to sleep just longing to feel your arms around me! Oh, when one has a mother and a home like mine to want to come to, it ought to beeasyto keep beautiful inside, the way the dear man said!" And Beryl, staring thoughtfully out over the valley, didnot see the glow that transformed her mother's face.
A shrill whistle from the Mills echoed and reechoed through the valley. Beryl turned her head suddenly and laid her cheek against the palm of her mother's hand.
"Mother, I saw a lot of Tom Granger when I was in Paris."
Mother Moira started ever so slightly, with the barest twitching of the hand Beryl's cheek touched.
"He was very nice to me. Mother, are he and—and Robin—awfully good friends?"
"What's in your heart, my girl?"
"Mom, couldn't Robin marry almostanybody? She's such a dear and she's so rich and she's travelled around so much."
"Why, bless the heart of her, she's nothing but a child!"
"Mother!" Beryl's voice rang impatiently. "We'll justnevergrow up in your eyes! Why, Robin's twenty. Well, I should thinkanyone'dlike Tom Granger."
"Oh, my dear!" And Mother Moira, reading the girl's heart with her wise mother-eyes, gave a tiny sigh. Must the shadow of a heartache touch the splendid friendship between these two, Beryl and Robin?
The thought lingered with her while she watched the girls come hand in hand out to the orchard from the drive where Robin had left her roadster. Berylhad only been home for three days and Robin came out to the farm at every opportunity.
Her girls—her tall, handsome Beryl with the strong shoulders and the free swing of her, and little Robin, with her deep blue eyes and her tender lips and her alive hair, and the little limp that gave her walk the appearance of eagerness.
There was still so much to talk about that the two girls lingered under the trees while Mother Moira swung gently and listened and watched the dear young faces. Beryl had been the guest for a weekend at a duke's house; Robin had spent a month in the Canadian Rockies with her Jimmie; Dale had brought home all sorts of tales of adventures from an expedition he had made with an engineering gang into the fastnesses of South America, and Beryl had been asked to tour in the fall with the Cincinnati Symphony and was going to accept. Their chatter came back then to Wassumsic and the new hospital and the library and the new teachers, who were Smith College graduates, and Sophie Mack who had started a Girl Scout troop, and the new athletic field at the House of Laughter.
"Bless me, it's forgetting the supper I am, and Dale coming!" cried Mother Moira, springing to quick life.
"And Dale has a wonderful secret to tell, too," laughed Robin, her eyes shining.
Beryl looked at her friend curiously—Robin hadthe "all-tight-inside" look that Beryl remembered from the old days at the Manor.
"Do you know the secret?" she asked.
Robin's face flushed rose-red. "Y-yes. But I promised Dale I wouldn't tell. We both want to see your mother's face—when she hears it."
"Well, I think you're mean to have a secret with Dale thatIdon't know!" cried Beryl, with real indignation. "Is it something that's going to make Mom lots happier?"
"I—hope—so!" And to hide the tell-tale rose on her face Robin threw her arms around Mother Moira and kissed her.
"Faith, is it any happier I could be without my heart just breaking?"
Dale came and they all, big Danny in his wheel chair, ate supper on the broad porch where they could enjoy the sunset. Beryl watched her brother with admiring eyes—he had grown so strong and big and good-looking, his nice-fitting clothes set off his broad shoulders so well, his voice had such a ring of confidence.
"I've been offered the management of the Forsyth Mills," he announced suddenly.
Thenthatwas the secret!
"Really, truly?" exclaimed Beryl.
"And will ye take it, my boy?" asked big Danny, a note of pride deepening his voice.
"My boy a manager!" trilled Mother Moira.
"Yes. I'll take it. I made one condition with Madame Forsyth—and she granted it." And Dale flashed a look across to Robin. Everyone followed his glance and everyone read the truth in Robin's face.
"Robin Forsyth—and you never breathed aword!" cried Beryl, not knowing for the moment whether to give way to great joy or indignation that her friend had not confided in her.
With a quick little motion, Robin had slipped to Mother Lynch's chair and, kneeling beside it, she buried her face against the woman's heart.
"I didn't know—myself," came in muffled tones from the embrace.
"Are you happy, mother?" asked Dale, boyishly.
"Ah, I did not know I could be happier—but, I am!" And Mother Moira smiled through the tears that brimmed in her eyes.
Beryl, staring at her mother and brother and her friend, suddenly gave voice to a thought that had come with such significance as to sweep away her girlish reserve.
"Then itisn'tTom Granger at all! You don't care abitabout him?"
Robin's face lifted. "About Tom? Oh, goodness me, no. Why, he isn't worth Dale's littlefinger—Beryl Lynch, why do you ask me that?"
"Oh—nothing. Really, truly—" And Beryl escaped into the house.
Robin drove Dale back to the village. At the turn of the road near the House of Laughter she stopped the car that they might enjoy for a moment the twilight glow of the valley. Lights twinkled from the Mill houses across the river. From the House of Laughter came the sound of singing. A young crescent of a moon shone silvery against a purple blue sky.
"Little Red-Robin," cried Dale, suddenly, "Are you very sure?"
"Sure—of what?" Robin asked in a voice that trembled in spite of her.
"Someday you will be a rich girl. I am a—working-man. What will the world say? They may laugh at you!"
Robin's chin lifted. Had she ever reckoned her gifts in dollars and cents?
"But you're my Prince!" she protested, proudly. "Don't you remember? That night, a long, long time ago, when you took me home, I called you—my Prince. You said, then, you couldn't stay with me—that I'd have to find you. Well," her voice dropped to a whisper, "I have."
"The Books You Like to Readat the Price You Like to Pay"
There Are Two Sides to Everything—
—including the wrapper which covers every Grosset & Dunlap book. When you feel in the mood for a good romance, refer to the carefully selected list of modern fiction comprising most of the successes by prominent writers of the day which is printed on the back of every Grosset & Dunlap book wrapper.
You will find more than five hundred titles to choose from—books for every mood and every taste and every pocketbook.
Don't forget the other side, but in case the wrapper is lost, write to the publishers for a complete catalog.
There is a Grosset & Dunlap Bookfor every mood and for every taste
JANE ABBOTT'S STORIES FOR GIRLSMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
Mrs. Abbott holds a unique place among the writers of fiction for young girls. Her charming stories possess those same qualities of optimism and high ideals for humanity that made the books of Louisa May Alcott so popular. She never fails to create an atmosphere of happiness and the spirit of Youth and Spring.
RED ROBIN
In Robin Forsyth Mrs. Abbott has added a new and charming member to the happy collection of young girls who have enlivened the pages of her stories.
APRILLY
A charming story of a young girl and of the adventures which lead her to her goal of happiness. The book is filled with that joyous spirit of youth and spring that the title suggests.
HIGHACRES
A school story for girls full of vitality and enthusiasm. There is a real plot and the girls introduced are sure to be interesting to the reader.
KEINETH
Keineth is a life creation—within its covers the actual spirit of youth. The book is of special interest to girls, but when a grown-up gets hold of it there follows a one-session under the reading lamp with "finis" at the end.
LARKSPUR
Especially interesting to any Girl Scout because it is the story of a Girl Scout who is poor and has to help her mother.
HAPPY HOUSE
The delightful story of two American girls, Ann and Nancy. They heal the old family quarrel and the old homestead becomes a happy house.
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK
THE NOVELS OF TEMPLE BAILEYMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
THE BLUE WINDOW
The heroine, Hildegarde, finds herself transplanted from the middle western farm to the gay social whirl of the East. She is almost swept off her feet, but in the end she proves true blue.
PEACOCK FEATHERS
The eternal conflict between wealth and love. Jerry, the idealist who is poor, loves Mimi, a beautiful, spoiled society girl.
THE DIM LANTERN
The romance of little Jane Barnes who is loved by two men.
THE GAY COCKADE
Unusual short stories where Miss Bailey shows her keen knowledge of character and environment, and how romance comes to different people.
THE TRUMPETER SWAN
Randy Paine comes back from France to the monotony of every-day affairs. But the girl he loves shows him the beauty in the common place.
THE TIN SOLDIER
A man who wishes to serve his country, but is bound by a tie he cannot in honor break—that's Derry. A girl who loves him, shares his humiliation and helps him to win—that's Jean. Their love is the story.
MISTRESS ANNE
A girl in Maryland teaches school, and believes that work is worthy service. Two men come to the little community; one is weak, the other strong, and both need Anne.
CONTRARY MARY
An old-fashioned love story that is nevertheless modern.
GLORY OF YOUTH
A novel that deals with a question, old and yet ever new—how far should an engagement of marriage bind two persons who discover they no longer love.
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK
MARGARET PEDLER'S NOVELSMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
TO-MORROW'S TANGLE
The game of love is fraught with danger. To win in the finest sense, it must be played fairly.
RED ASHES
A gripping story of a doctor who failed in a crucial operation—and had only himself to blame. Could the woman he loved forgive him?
THE BARBARIAN LOVER
A love story based on the creed that the only important things between birth and death are the courage to face life and the love to sweeten it.
THE MOON OUT OF REACH
Nan Davenant's problem is one that many a girl has faced—her own happiness or her father's bond.
THE HOUSE OF DREAMS-COME-TRUE
How a man and a woman fulfilled a Gypsy's strange prophecy.
THE HERMIT OF FAR END
How love made its way into a walled-in house and a walled-in heart.
THE LAMP OF FATE
The story of a woman who tried to take all and give nothing.
THE SPLENDID FOLLY
Do you believe that husbands and wives should have no secrets from each other?
THE VISION OF DESIRE
An absorbing romance written with all that sense of feminine tenderness that has given the novels of Margaret Pedler their universal appeal.
WAVES OF DESTINY
Each of these stories has the sharp impact of an emotional crisis—the compressed quality of one of Margaret Pedler's widely popular novels.
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK
THE NOVELS OF GRACE LIVINGSTON HILLMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
A NEW NAMEARIEL CUSTERBEST MAN, THECITY OF FIRE, THECLOUDY JEWELDAWN OF THE MORNINGENCHANTED BARN, THEEXIT BETTYFINDING OF JASPER HOLT, THEGIRL FROM MONTANA, THELO, MICHAEL!MAN OF THE DESERT, THEMARCIA SCHUYLERMIRANDAMYSTERY OF MARY, THENOT UNDER THE LAWPHOEBE DEANERE-CREATIONSRED SIGNAL, THESEARCH, THESTORY OF A WHIM, THETOMORROW ABOUT THIS TIMETRYST, THEVOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, AWITNESS, THE
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK
BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELSMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
THE MIDLANDERTHE FASCINATING STRANGERGENTLE JULIAALICE ADAMSRAMSEY MILHOLLANDTHE GUEST OF QUESNAYTHE TWO VAN REVELSTHE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONSMONSIEUR BEAUCAIRESEVENTEENPENRODPENROD AND SAMTHE TURMOILTHE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANATHE FLIRT
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK
KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIESMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
SISTERS.Frontispiece by Frank Street.
The California Redwoods furnish the background for this beautiful story of sisterly devotion and sacrifice.
JOSSELYN'S WIFE.Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.
The story of a beautiful woman who fought a bitter fight for happiness and love.
MARTIE, THE UNCONQUERED.Illustrated by Charles E. Chambers.
The triumph of a dauntless spirit over adverse conditions.
THE HEART OF RACHAEL.Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.
An interesting story of divorce and the problems that come with a second marriage.
THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE.Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.
A sympathetic portrayal of the quest of a normal girl, obscure and lonely, for the happiness of life.
SATURDAY'S CHILD.Frontispiece by E. Graham Cootes.
Can a girl, born in rather sordid conditions, lift herself through sheer determination to the better things for which her soul hungered?
MOTHER.Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
A story of the big mother heart that beats in the background of every girl's life, and some dreams which come true.
Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK
STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTERMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
THE KEEPER OF THE BEES
A gripping human novel everyone in your family will want to read.
THE WHITE FLAG
How a young girl, singlehanded, fought against the power of the Morelands who held the town of Ashwater in their grip.
HER FATHER'S DAUGHTER
The story of such a healthy, level-headed, balanced young woman that it's a delightful experience to know her.
A DAUGHTER OF THE LAND
In which Kate Bates fights for her freedom against long odds, renouncing the easy path of luxury.
FRECKLES
A story of love in the limberlost that leaves a warm feeling about the heart.
A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST
The sheer beauty of a girl's soul and the rich beauties of the out-of-doors are in the pages of this book.
THE HARVESTER
The romance of a strong man and of Nature's fields and woods.
LADDIE
Full of the charm of this author's "wild woods magic."
AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW
A story of friendship and love out-of-doors.
MICHAEL O'HALLORAN
A wholesome, humorous, tender love story.
THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL
The love idyl of the Cardinal and his mate, told with rare delicacy and humor.
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK
JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD'S STORIES OF ADVENTUREMay be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
THE ANCIENT HIGHWAYA GENTLEMAN OF COURAGETHE ALASKANTHE COUNTRY BEYONDTHE FLAMING FORESTTHE VALLEY OF SILENT MENTHE RIVER'S ENDTHE GOLDEN SNARENOMADS OF THE NORTHKAZANBAREE, SON OF KAZANTHE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUMTHE DANGER TRAILTHE HUNTED WOMANTHE FLOWER OF THE NORTHTHE GRIZZLY KINGISOBELTHE WOLF HUNTERSTHE GOLD HUNTERSTHE COURAGE OF MARGE O'DOONEBACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY
GROSSET & DUNLAP,Publishers, NEW YORK