image4Betty found them all laughing heartily over "My Grandmother's Cat."—Page 94.
"I can't," said Betty shortly, and having kissed her little brother she hurried away, winking hard to keep back the tears.
On the stairs she encountered Miss Clark, dressed for her daily walk.
"Your mother is asleep," the nurse explained, "and Mrs. Hamilton is going to sit with her till I come back. Don't look so worried, dear, she isn't any worse to-day; indeed, we think she is a little better."
Betty tried to smile, but the effort was rather a failure, and when she had reached their own apartment, sat down on Jack's sofa, laying her head down on the cushion on which her little brother's head had so often rested.
A few moments later, Mrs. Hamilton, going into the kitchen for something she wanted, was startled by the sound of low, subdued crying. Glancing in at the door of the sitting room she saw Betty lying face downwards on the sofa, her whole frame shaking with sobs. Next instant she was bending over the little figure, softly stroking Betty's tumbled hair.
"Betty," she said tenderly, "poor little Betty, what is it?"
With a start Betty lifted her face, and somewhat to Mrs. Hamilton's surprise, grew suddenly very red.
"It isn't anything," she said, beginning a hasty search for her handkerchief, "only—only, I'm a horrid, wicked girl."
"Betty, dear, what do you mean?" Mrs. Hamilton sat down on the sofa and put an arm affectionately around the trembling child. "Don't you know what a great help you have been to Miss Clark and me? Why, I have never seen a more thoughtful, sensible little girl."
"I am wicked, though," Betty maintained stoutly; "I'm jealous. I don't like to have Jack so happy without me."
Mrs. Hamilton with some difficulty repressed a smile.
"Jealousy is a very common fault in all of us, Betty," she said, "but I am sure you wouldn't like it if Jack were unhappy and fretting."
"No, oh, no, I shouldn't like that!—but"—with a stifled sob—"he did seem to be having such a good time, and I'm so unhappy and so worried about mother."
"I know you are worried about your mother, dear, but we all think her a little better to-day, and Dr. Bell says that if she continues to improvefor the next twenty-four hours he hopes she will be out of all danger. And now, Betty, I am going to tell you something that I know you will be glad to hear. It is about Jack."
"About Jack?" repeated Betty, beginning to look interested.
"Yes, dear. I know how dearly you love your little brother, and how happy it would make you if anything could be done for him—anything to help his illness, I mean."
"Oh, Mrs. Hamilton, could anything really——" Betty could say no more, but her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes were more expressive than words.
"Dr. Bell was talking to me about Jack last evening," Mrs. Hamilton went on. "He is very much interested in the case, and as soon as your mother is well enough he is going to ask her consent to bring a famous surgeon here to see Jack."
Betty was actually trembling with excitement.
"And he thinks—he thinks that something might be done, so that Jack would be able to walk like other people?" she gasped.
"He thinks something might be tried."
"I remember I once heard mother say that when Jack was a baby a doctor told father that if he ever grew strong enough to bear it an operationmight be performed. Jack was so delicate for a long time that mother never dared to think of it, but he is much stronger now."
"Well," said Mrs. Hamilton, rising, "we won't talk to any one about it just yet, least of all to Jack himself, because, you know, it might amount to nothing, and then think how terribly disappointed he would be. But you and I can talk about it sometimes, and it will be our little secret."
"Yes," said Betty eagerly, "and as soon as mother is well enough she shall know too. Oh, Mrs. Hamilton, you have made me so very, very happy I don't know what to do."
There was no more jealousy for Betty that day. She went about with a look of such radiant happiness on her face that, when she came to kiss Jack good-night, his first words were an eager exclamation. "Oh, Betty, mother's better; I know she is, or you wouldn't look like that!"
The next morning Mrs. Randall really was better, and Dr. Bell came in after his early visit to tell Jack the good news.
"You have been a good, brave little soldier," he said kindly, "and in a few more days you will be able to go back to your mother and Betty."
"Betty has been much braver, though," saidJack, always eager to sound his sister's praises. "Mrs. Hamilton says she doesn't know what they would have done without Betty."
"Yes, indeed, Betty has been a famous little helper. I shall tell your mother she has two little people to be proud of."
It was still some days, however, before Jack could go home, or before Mrs. Randall was able fully to understand the state of affairs. At first she was too weak to care much about what went on around her. She would lie with half-closed eyes, only smiling faintly when spoken to, and silently accepting all that was done for her without appearing to think very much about it. But as her strength began to return, cares and anxieties returned too, and one morning, when Mrs. Hamilton went up to relieve Miss Clark for an hour, she found the invalid looking so flushed and distressed that she hastened to inquire, as she took the hand Mrs. Randall held out to her, "Is anything wrong? Are you not feeling as well this morning?"
"Oh, yes, I am gaining strength every day," said Mrs. Randall with a sigh, "but, Mrs. Hamilton, how can I ever repay you for all you have done for us? I have been questioning Betty, and she has told me everything."
"Now, my dear Mrs. Randall, please don't let us talk about repaying anything," said Mrs. Hamilton cheerfully. "You haven't the least idea of the pleasure your dear little boy has given my Winifred, and as for any little things that I may have been able to do, why, they have given me real pleasure too."
"You are very good, very good indeed," Mrs. Randall murmured, "but I can't help worrying a little when I think of all that this illness of mine involves. There are so many expenses to think of; the doctor and the nurse, and other things besides. Miss Clark tells me that it will be several weeks yet before I am able to go back to my work, and it is so near the end of the season."
"I told Betty to write to your pupils, telling them of your illness," said Mrs. Hamilton. "We found a list of addresses in your desk. Several notes have come for you, but I was afraid you were not strong enough to see them before. Would you like to read some of them now?"
Mrs. Randall said she would, and when she had opened and glanced over the half-dozen notes Mrs. Hamilton brought her, she looked up with tears in her eyes.
"People are very good," she said a little unsteadily. "I don't think I ever realized it before,but I have a great deal for which to be thankful."
"I don't think we ever do realize what true friendship means until trouble comes," said Mrs. Hamilton gently. "I know I did not until a great sorrow came to me. I now feel that there is no greater happiness in the world than being able to show my friends how much I care for them."
The two ladies had a long talk that morning, and grew to know and like each other better than either would have believed possible before. When Mrs. Hamilton had gone back to her own apartment Mrs. Randall called Betty to her side.
"Betty, darling," she said, and though there were tears in her eyes, there was a more peaceful expression on her face than the little girl had ever seen there before. "I am afraid I have been a very foolish, selfish mother to you and Jack, but we all make mistakes sometimes, and I am going to try and undo mine as soon as I can. Everybody has been so good it makes me ashamed of my old foolish pride. Mrs. Hamilton has taught me a lesson this morning that I shall never forget. I think she is the best woman I have ever known."
That same afternoon Jack came home. Dr. Bell carried him upstairs and laid him on the bedbeside his mother. How delightful it was to the little cripple to nestle in his mother's arms once more, and to feel her tender kisses on his face. Neither of them said very much; but their happy faces told the story plainly enough, and the doctor's kind eyes glistened as he turned away rather hurriedly to give some direction to Miss Clark. But after the first few rapturous moments, Jack found his tongue and chattered away, telling of all the pleasant times he had had, and the kind friends he had made, while Mrs. Randall listened; and Betty hovered over them both with such a radiant face that her mother asked her smilingly if she had not something delightful to tell as well as Jack. But Betty only blushed a little and shook her head. She had no intention of disclosing her secret just yet.
"Oh, Betty, it is nice to be at home again," said Jack, stretching himself comfortably on the familiar sofa, when Miss Clark had carried him away to the sitting room, leaving Mrs. Randall to rest for a while. "I've had a perfectly lovely time, but I do like home."
"You don't love Winifred better than me, do you?" said Betty, with a little twinge of the old jealousy.
"Why, Betty, how could I possibly do sucha thing as that?" Jack's eyes opened wide in astonishment.
"I didn't know," said Betty, hanging her head. "I'm awfully glad you don't."
"I love Winifred very much," said Jack slowly, "but then you're my own sister, and of course a person couldn't love another person as much as his own sister. Oh, Betty, you didn't really think I could, did you?"
Jack was beginning to look troubled, and Betty, very much ashamed of herself, hastened to reassure him.
"No, no, of course I didn't, not really, you know," she said, giving her brother a hearty kiss. "I was silly, that's all, but it's all right now. Isn't it lovely having mother so much better? Miss Clark says she can begin to sit up in a few days, and such nice things have happened. Nearly all mother's pupils have written kind notes, and most of them have sent checks paying up to the end of the term. I don't think mother wanted to take the checks at first, but Mrs. Hamilton talked to her, and she says she's going to try not to mind so much about accepting favors any more. I think there is only just one other thing in the world that could make me happier than I am to-day."
"What's that?" Jack inquired.
"To have you able to walk," said Betty softly. She turned her head away as she spoke, so that her brother should not see the expression in her eyes.
Jack gave a little start, and drew a long, deep breath.
"But, Betty," he said almost in a whisper, "that's something that couldn't ever possibly happen, you know. Oh, Betty, dear, please don't talk about it, because you see it's impossible."
Suddenly Betty laid her face down beside her brother's on the pillow, with a sob.
"Very, very wonderful things do happen sometimes," she whispered, "things that are almost as wonderful as fairy stories. If you ever could be made to walk, Jack, wouldn't you be the very happiest boy in the whole world?"
"Of course I should," said Jack with decision, "if it only could happen, but then you know, it couldn't."
Betty said no more, but hugged Jack tight, and kissed him a great many times, and then she went away to the kitchen to help Miss Clark get dinner.
Miss Clark's prediction proved correct, and in a few days Mrs. Randall was able to sit up, and to be helped into the sunny little parlor, where she sat by Jack's sofa, looking happier and more at rest than the children had ever seen her look before. After that she improved so rapidly that even Dr. Bell was surprised, and declared he had never seen a woman with a finer constitution. At the end of another week Miss Clark went away to another case, and Mrs. Flynn, the good-natured Irishwoman who did the Randalls' washing, was engaged to come in by the day. So the bright spring days came and went, and when the sun was brightest and the air warmest, Jack's pale face would often look a little wistful, but nothing more was said about drives in the park, and Betty, still waiting patiently for leave to reveal her secret, began to wonder if after all Mrs. Hamilton had been mistaken, or Dr. Bell had changed his mind.
One Saturday morning in May, Winifred appeared shortly after breakfast, looking pleased and excited, and bringing an invitation for Betty.
"It's from Lulu Bell," she explained, when Betty, quite thrilled at the prospect, had brought the visitor into the parlor to tell the news to her mother and Jack. "Lulu asked Gertie Rossiter and me to lunch with her and go to the circus to-day, but Gertie has the measles, so Lulu telephoned, and asked me to bring Betty instead. Mother says she hopes you'll let Betty go, Mrs. Randall, because she's sure Mrs. Bell would like to have her very much."
Mrs. Randall looked pleased.
"I am sure Betty would enjoy it," she said; "you would like to go, wouldn't you, dear?"
Betty hesitated, and glanced a little uneasily at Jack.
"I should like it," she said. "I've never been to the circus and it must be lovely, but—but——"
"Oh, Betty, you must go!" cried Jack eagerly. "It'll be so nice, and you can tell me all about it when you come home."
The time had been, and not so long before either, when Mrs. Randall would have been inclined to regard this invitation as an attempt at patronage,but she had been learning more than one lesson in these days of her convalescence, and Mrs. Hamilton's kindly advice was beginning to bear fruit.
"Lulu says her mother doesn't want us to wear anything especially nice," Winifred went on, "because we shall go around to see the animals before the circus begins, and it may be dusty. I've got a lovely new book out of the library; it's called 'Dorothy Dainty,' and I'm going to bring it up for Jack to read this afternoon. I know he'll like it."
Matters being thus happily arranged, Winifred hurried away to telephone her friend that Betty would be delighted to accept the invitation, and Betty made herself very useful, helping Mrs. Flynn with the Saturday cleaning, feeling all the time as if she were about to enter upon a new and very interesting experience.
"You're sure you don't mind, Jack," she said, stooping to kiss him at the last moment before going downstairs to join Winifred.
"Not a bit," said Jack heartily. "I hope you'll have a lovely time, and it'll be such fun to hear all about it."
"You're not a single mite jealous, are you?" said Betty, with a sudden recollection of her own feelings on another occasion.
"No, of course not. What does it feel like to be jealous?"
"Well, you know, I never went away and left you for a whole afternoon, just to have fun before, and I'm going to have a good time, and you're not. You wouldn't like it if you were jealous."
"But I am going to have a nice time," said Jack, looking rather puzzled; "I've got that nice book Winifred brought, and mother's going to play for me. I wonder what being jealous really does feel like."
"It doesn't feel nice," said Betty, blushing, "but I don't believe you'll ever know anything about it, you're too dear."
It was about twelve o'clock when the two little girls, accompanied by Mrs. Hamilton, left the apartment house, and started on their walk across the park, to the Bells' home on Madison Avenue. It was a beautiful day, and the park was full of children, all making the most of their Saturday holiday. They met several May parties, and Betty told them how her mother had once read them Tennyson's "May Queen," and how Jack had been so much interested in the poem that he had learned it by heart.
"Jack is really a very clever boy," said Winifredadmiringly. "I don't like boys very much generally, they're so rough, but I respect Jack very much indeed."
"There isn't any other boy in the world like him," said Betty, with conviction. "Mrs. Hamilton," she added rather shyly, "do you suppose Dr. Bell has forgotten Jack, now that he doesn't come to see mother any more?"
"I am very sure he has not," said Mrs. Hamilton decidedly.
Betty said no more on the subject, but her heart beat high with renewed hope, and during the rest of the walk she felt as if she were treading upon air.
Betty could not help feeling a little uncomfortable when she first caught sight of the handsome house where Winifred's friends lived. She had met Lulu only once, and although she looked upon the doctor as one of her best friends, she did not know any other members of the family, and the thought of being presented to entire strangers was a rather embarrassing one. Mrs. Hamilton, having another engagement, left them at the foot of the steps. Winifred rang the bell, and when the door was opened by the boy in brass buttons, she walked in with the air of a person very much at home. Betty followed more slowly,wondering rather uncomfortably what people who lived in such a grand-looking house would think of her faded brown dress and last year's straw hat. But all such speculations were speedily forgotten in the kind cordiality of the greeting she received. Lulu was a charming little hostess, and her mother and her blind aunt both greeted the little stranger so kindly, that they soon succeeded in making her feel almost as much at home as Winifred herself.
At luncheon the ladies asked questions about Jack, and quite won Betty's heart by telling her of the many kind things the doctor had said about her little brother. Lulu had a great deal to say about the pretty seaside cottage her father had just hired for the summer.
"You must come and make us a long visit, Winifred," she said decidedly, but Winifred shook her head.
"I can't leave mother," she said, with equal decision on her part. "It's so perfectly beautiful to have her, I can't ever go away from her."
"There is a good hotel very near us," said Mrs. Bell kindly. "Perhaps your father and mother will come there to board for a while."
But Winifred still looked doubtful. She had an idea that money was not very plentiful withher family just then, and she had heard her mother say that a couple of weeks in the mountains, while father had his vacation, would probably be all they could afford that summer.
image5What a delightful afternoon that was!—Page 111.
As soon as they rose from the luncheon table Mrs. Bell and the three little girls started for the circus.
What a delightful afternoon that was! Even Betty's wildest anticipations had scarcely prepared her for the blissful reality. She enjoyed every moment, and every incident, from the clown who made her laugh till she cried, to the "Battle of Santiago," which made her shiver and cling tightly to Winifred's hand.
"It's been the loveliest afternoon I ever knew," she said gratefully to Mrs. Bell, when it was all over, and the little girls were saying good-bye at the door of the apartment house. "It was so kind of you to take me, and I shall have lots and lots to tell Jack."
"I am very glad you could come with us, dear," said Mrs. Bell, smiling kindly, "and next year I hope we can take Jack with us too."
"I suppose it isn't a very nice thing to say," Lulu whispered to Winifred, "but I can't help being a little glad Gertie has the measles. I dolike Betty ever so much, and I know mamma likes her too."
At the door of the Hamiltons' apartment the children separated, and Betty ran gayly upstairs, thinking of the delightful time she should have living the events of the afternoon all over again in describing them to Jack. She opened the front door with her key, and was just going to call out to her mother and Jack, when something in the unusual stillness of the place caused her to pause suddenly.
"Perhaps mother's lying down," she said to herself, "and Jack doesn't like to make any noise for fear of disturbing her. I'll go in softly and see."
She stole on tiptoe to the sitting room door, and peeped in. Her mother was not there, but Jack was lying on the sofa as usual. At sight of her the little fellow started up and held out his arms. One glance at his face was enough to convince Betty that something had happened.
"What is it, Jack?" she whispered, running to his side, and beginning to tremble with a strange new sensation, but whether of joy or fear she did not know. "What makes you look so—so queer? Where's mother?"
"Mother's in her room," said Jack; "she shutthe door; she's gone to lie down, I guess." His voice trembled, and he hid his face on Betty's shoulder.
"But something has happened, I know it has," persisted Betty, trembling more than ever. "Oh, Jack, what is it?"
"Betty," said Jack softly, "do you remember what you said the other day, about—about the thing that would make you happier than anything else, even than mother's getting well?"
"You mean the thing about you—oh, Jack, you mean about your being made to walk?"
Jack nodded.
"Tell me quick," gasped Betty breathlessly, the circus and everything else forgotten in the excitement of this wonderful news.
"Well, Doctor Bell came this afternoon right after lunch, and there was another doctor with him. He was rather old, and not so nice as Dr. Bell, but I think he wanted to be very kind. First they went in the dining room, and talked to mother for a little while, and I think I heard mother crying. Then they came in here, and looked at me. What they did hurt a good deal, but I tried not to mind, because Dr. Bell called me a brave soldier boy. Then they went back to the dining room, and talked some more to mother,and the new doctor went away. After that mother and Dr. Bell came back here. Mother was crying a good deal, but she looked awfully glad too, and they told me what it all meant. Next week I'm to go to a hospital, and have an operation. It won't hurt, Dr. Bell says, because they'll give me something to make me go to sleep, and when I get better, they think—they're not quite sure—but they really do think, that I shall be able to walk."
It was very quiet in the Randalls' apartment one warm spring afternoon. For nearly two hours the only sounds to break the utter stillness had been the ticking of the clock and an occasional movement from the kitchen, where Mrs. Flynn tiptoed softly about, preparing dinner. Mrs. Randall sat in the armchair by the open window. Her face was white and set, and sometimes her lips moved, but no sound came from them. Betty felt sure that her mother was saying her prayers. It seemed to Betty as though a month must have passed since the morning. She had tried to read, to sew, to do anything to pass the terrible hours of suspense, but it was of no use, and now she sat on a stool at her mother's feet resting her head against Mrs. Randall's knee. She was trying very hard to be brave, but she knew that if she dared glance even for a moment at Jack's empty sofa, she would no longer be ableto choke down the rising sobs, or keep back the tears which seemed so near the surface.
Early that morning Jack had been taken away to the hospital, and even as they sat there in silence, Betty and her mother knew the work was being done which was to decide the fate of the little boy for life.
The doctors had decided that it would be best to perform the operation before hot weather set in, and besides, as Dr. Bell wisely explained to Mrs. Randall, it would never do to keep the child in suspense any longer than necessary, now that he knew what was impending. Mrs. Randall was not yet strong enough to leave the house, but Dr. Bell had come himself for Jack, and Mrs. Hamilton had gone with them to the hospital, promising to remain until the operation was over. Jack had been very brave and cheerful, and the excitement had helped every one up to the last moment. Dr. Bell had told funny stories to make them all laugh, and Mrs. Hamilton had talked about the nice things they would bring Jack when they came to the hospital to see him. No one had cried, only, just as the last good-byes were being said, Jack had suddenly thrown his arms round his mother's neck and clung to her, and Mrs. Randall had clasped him close to her heart,and held him there in a silence that was far more expressive than any words. And now it was afternoon, and Betty and her mother were waiting, in silent, breathless suspense, for the news that they both knew must come before long. Mrs. Hamilton had promised to let them know the moment the operation was over.
The door creaked softly and Mrs. Flynn came in with a cup of tea in her hand.
"Take a drop of tea, dearie, do," she whispered soothingly, bending over Mrs. Randall's chair; "it'll put heart into ye."
Mrs. Randall shook her head impatiently.
"Not now, Mrs. Flynn; I couldn't touch anything now, it would choke me. Perhaps by and by——"
Mrs. Flynn turned away with a sigh, and went back to the kitchen, beckoning to Betty to follow her.
"Can't you do nothin' to cheer her up a bit, darlin'," she whispered, when Betty joined her in the kitchen. "Not a mouthful of anything has she touched this whole blessed day, and it's awful to see her sittin' lookin' like that, her that's just off a sick bed too."
"She's thinking about Jack," said Bettysadly; "she can't eat till she knows; I couldn't eat either, Mrs. Flynn."
Mrs. Flynn sighed again, and set down the teacup.
"Well, you'll hear pretty soon now, I guess," she said, with an air of resignation, "and I've got some nice strong chicken soup on the stove. A cup of that'll do yez both good by and by."
"Oh, Mrs. Flynn," whispered Betty, drawing close to the kind-hearted Irish-woman, "I'm so frightened. I don't know why, but I am. You don't think, do you, that anything dreadful is going to happen?"
"Not a bit of it, darlin'," said Mrs. Flynn reassuringly. "Jack'll be all right, the little angel, and we'll have him back, and runnin' about like any one else in just no time at all. Why, I shouldn't wonder if we'd see him ridin' one of them bicycles on Fifth Avenue next month."
"But people don't always get over operations, you know, Mrs. Flynn," said Betty, with a choke in her voice.
"Nonsense," retorted Mrs. Flynn, with an indignant toss of her head. "Sure, didn't me brother-in-law's first cousin have the two legs of him took off wid a trolley-car on Lexington Avenue, and ain't he walkin' around now 'most asgood as ever on two cork stumps, as they give him at the hospital? There ain't nothin' them doctors can't do, barrin' raisin' the dead."
A ring at the door bell at this moment put an end to the Irish-woman's hopeful predictions. Betty uttered a little half-frightened cry, and Mrs. Flynn flew to open the door. Mrs. Randall sprang from her chair, and was in the hall before Mrs. Flynn had left the kitchen. Next moment, however, there was a little sigh of disappointment from every one; the visitor was only Winifred.
"I thought I'd come to see you for a little while," she explained to Betty, who was trying to smile, and not show the disappointment she felt. "It's lonely downstairs without mother, and I've done all my lessons. I've brought Miss Mollie; I thought you might like to have her."
"I am very glad to have her," said Betty, taking the doll in her arms. She was not very fond of dolls, but she wanted to show Winifred that she appreciated her kindness. "Let's go into my room, where we can talk and not disturb mother."
They were moving away, but Mrs. Randall called them back.
"Stay here, children," she said, and her voicesounded sharp from anxiety. "I like to hear you talk, and you don't disturb me."
So the two little girls went into the parlor, and sat down side by side on Jack's sofa, Betty still holding Miss Mollie in her arms. They were both very silent at first, and Winifred kept casting sympathetic glances towards Mrs. Randall, who had now left her seat, and was standing with her back to them, looking out of the window. But after a little while they began to talk in whispers.
"I guess mother will be back pretty soon now," said Winifred, giving Betty's cold little hand an encouraging squeeze. "She'll be sure to come and tell you about Jack the very first thing."
Betty said nothing, and after a little pause Winifred went on.
"Won't it be lovely when Jack gets well? Just think, he may be a soldier after all when he grows up. You know Dr. Bell always calls him a little soldier boy."
"He'd like to be one," said Betty, brightening at the thought; "our grandfather was a general, you know."
"Yes, and even if he never goes to war, I think he is much braver now than a great many real soldiers are. Father says there are not many little boys only nine years old who would bewilling to go away and stay all by themselves in a big, strange hospital."
"Don't let's talk about that," said Betty, beginning to cry. "I can't bear to think of his being all by himself."
"Oh, but he won't be, not really. Lulu has been to that hospital to see the children and take them things, and she says the nurses are very kind. One of them took care of Lulu's aunt when she broke her knee last year, and they all liked her very much. And then, you know, Dr. Bell goes there every day, and we shall go too, just as soon as Jack is well enough to see us. Oh, Betty, dear, I'm sure God is going to let Jack get well and be just like other people. I've been saying little prayers to Him all day about it."
"So have I," said Betty, who was beginning to find Winifred's society very cheering. "He'll be so happy if he can walk, and mother says Dr. Bell wants us all to go to the country as soon as Jack is strong enough."
Winifred heaved a little sigh.
"I think almost every one is going to the country pretty soon," she said. "School closes the end of next week, and all the girls are going away the first part of June. I shall miss them all, especially Lulu."
"Dr. Bell said they were going to the seashore the first of June."
"Yes, they're going to Navesink; Lulu says it's a lovely place. There's the ocean, you know, and a river, where they can fish and catch crabs. I've never seen the ocean; Aunt Estelle doesn't like sea air, so we always went to the mountains."
"Wouldn't you like to go to Navesink too?" Betty asked.
"I should just love it. Lulu wants me to come and visit her, but of course I can't leave mother."
"New York isn't so bad in summer," said Betty cheerfully. "We were here last year. It's nice in the park and on the Riverside, but of course the real country must be much nicer."
"I think any place is nice where mother is," said Winifred, with simple conviction. "Oh, Betty, there's the door bell, and it's mother's ring."
Betty sprang to her feet, and darted out into the hall. Mrs. Randall took a few quick steps towards the door, but then her strength failed her, and, with a low cry, she sank on her knees on the floor beside Jack's sofa, trembling from head to foot, and covering her face with her hands.
Mrs. Hamilton came straight into the room. She passed the two little girls without a word, butthere was a look on her sweet face that somehow kept them both silent, eager as they were for news. For one second she paused beside the sofa, and then dropping on her own knees, took the trembling, swaying figure right into her kind arms.
"Oh, my dear, my dear," she sobbed, the happy tears streaming down her cheeks, "I don't know how to tell you, but it is all as we wished. The operation is over; it was a great success, the doctors say, and—and—don't tremble so, dear—there is nothing to grieve over, but, oh, so much to make you glad. I have just come from the hospital, and Dr. Bell has sent you this message. 'Tell Mrs. Randall,' he said, and there were tears in his eyes, 'tell Mrs. Randall that everything is going on splendidly,' and—and—oh, think of it, my dear,—'that her little boy will walk.'"
"Here's a letter for you, Winnie," said Mr. Hamilton, coming into the dining room, just as his wife and little daughter were sitting down to breakfast one warm morning in the beginning of July.
"It's from Lulu," exclaimed Winifred joyfully, glancing at the handwriting. "Oh, I'm so glad! I haven't had a letter from her since she went away."
"This is a good fat one, at any rate," said Mr. Hamilton, smiling, and Mrs. Hamilton added:
"Read it to us, dear."
So Winifred opened her letter and began:
"Navesink, N.J., July 6th.
"Dearest Winifred:
"I meant to write to you ever so long ago, but I have been so busy that I couldn't find the time. This is a lovely place, and we all like it very much. The ocean is right in front of the house, and in the big storm last week the waves cameup all over the lawn. We go in bathing every day that the ocean is smooth enough, all but Aunt Daisy. She is afraid of the big waves, but papa says she wouldn't be if she would only make up her mind to go in once. On the other side of the house is the Shrewsbury River, and that is very nice too. All the Rossiters came up to spend the day last Saturday, and papa took us crabbing. I caught three, and we had them for luncheon. There is an old boat fastened to our dock. It hasn't any oars, or rudder, or anything, but it's splendid to play shipwreck in.
"I see the Randalls almost every day. The house where they are boarding is only a little way from our cottage. Jack looks ever so much better than when he came, and papa says the sea air is making him stronger every day. He can stand all by himself now, and walk a little with his crutches. Papa thinks by the autumn he will be able to walk as well as anybody. Mamma has given him a go-cart, and Betty and I push him about in it. We all go down to the beach, and when we have made a nice seat in the sand for Jack, he gets out of the go-cart and sits there. I like Betty and Jack ever so much, and mamma likes to have me play with them.
"Mrs. Randall has a good many pupils already,and mamma thinks she will have more by and by, when all the summer people get here. Aunt Daisy is taking music lessons from her, and says she is the best teacher she ever had. She plays beautifully too. Mamma had her come over and play for some people the other day, and they all enjoyed it very much.
"I am having a lovely time, but I do miss you very much. Can't you really come and make me a visit? Mamma and Aunt Daisy would love to have you, and there are two beds in my room. I should be so very, very happy if you would only come.
"My hand is getting tired, so I shall have to stop.
"Betty and Jack send their love, and say they would love it if you would come. Please answer this letter right away, and believe me, with lots of love and kisses,
"Your true friend,"Louise M. Bell."
"That's a lovely letter," said Winifred in a tone of profound admiration. "Lulu writes beautifully, don't you think so, mother?"
"She certainly expresses herself very well," said Mrs. Hamilton, smiling.
"She writes stories too," Winifred went on, putting her letter carefully back into the envelope; "she intends to be an authoress when she grows up. She did think once that she would be a missionary, but now she has decided that she would rather be an authoress like her aunt."
"Wouldn't you like to go to Navesink and make Lulu a visit?" Mr. Hamilton asked.
Winifred looked a little wistful, but she shook her head decidedly.
"Not without mother. If mother could go too, I should love it better than anything else in the world."
Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton exchanged glances, but they were both silent, and nothing more was said on the subject.
As soon as they rose from the breakfast table, Winifred went to put her letter away in the little box where she kept all her treasures, but before doing so she sat down on the edge of her bed, and read it all over again from beginning to end. When she had finished, her face looked even more wistful than before.
"I should like to go, oh, I should like it very much," she said, with a long sigh, "but I couldn't go anywhere without mother. I suppose when people have only had mothers a little while likeme, they feel differently about leaving them from the people who have had them all the time."
The fact was, Winifred was feeling a little bit lonely. It was very warm in the city, and now that school was over, and all her friends had left town, she found time hang somewhat heavy on her hands. The children were a great comfort, of course, and her mother was everything to her, but she missed the work and the companionship of school, and there were times on those hot summer days when even story books seemed to have lost their charms.
She and Betty had become great friends during the time when Jack was in the hospital, and when Dr. Bell had decided that the seashore was the place for Jack, and the Randalls had given up their flat, and gone for the summer to board at Navesink—the kind doctor having procured accommodation for them in a house not far from his own—Winifred, although rejoicing heartily in her friends' good fortune, could not help feeling very forlorn without them. It was two weeks now since the Randalls had gone away, and Lulu's letter was the first news Winifred had received from any of her friends.
On this particular morning things were unusually dull. It was very hot, for one thing, andthen her mother and Lizzie were both very busy in the kitchen, putting up strawberry preserves. Lulu's letter had suggested so many pleasant possibilities too. Certainly sea bathing and playing shipwreck in a real boat sounded much more attractive than reading story books in a hot little bedroom on the second floor of a New York apartment house. She did her duty faithfully by the children; dressed them all; set Lord Fauntleroy, Rose-Florence, and Lily-Bell at their lessons, arranged Miss Mollie's hair in the latest fashion, and gave Violet-May a dose of castor oil. Then when there was really nothing more to be done for her family, and she had learned from her mother that her services were not desired in the kitchen, she took up "Denise and Ned Toodles," and settling herself in the coolest spot she could find, tried to forget other things in the interest of a new story.
"Well, mousie, here you are; deep in a story book as usual."
At the sound of the familiar voice, Winifred dropped her book, and sprang up with an exclamation of pleasure.
"Oh, Aunt Estelle, I am glad to see you!" she cried joyfully, running to greet the tall, bright-faced young lady who was standing in the doorway."How did you get in? I never heard the bell."
"I didn't ring, the door was open," said her aunt, laughing and kissing her. "I've been here for some time, talking to your mother in the kitchen, and now I've come to have a little talk with you."
"Won't you sit down?" said Winifred, hospitably drawing forward the comfortable rocker in which she had been sitting. "You look awfully warm. You sit here, and I'll fan you; that'll be nice."
"What have you been reading?" Mrs. Meredith asked, as her little niece perched herself on the arm of her chair, and began swaying a large palm-leaf fan back and forth.
"'Denise and Ned Toodles.' It's a very nice story. Mother got it out of the library for me yesterday. It's all about a little girl who lived in the country and had a pony."
"Do you think you would like to live in the country?" her aunt asked, smiling.
"Yes, I think so; I should like it in the summer, at any rate. Oh, Aunt Estelle, I had such a lovely letter from Lulu this morning. Would you like to see it?"
"Yes, very much, but not just now, for I amin a hurry. I am going downtown to do some errands, and then I am coming back here, and, Winnie, I want you to be ready to go home with me to spend the night."
"To spend the night?" Winifred repeated, looking very much surprised.
"Yes; Uncle Will was grumbling this morning, because he says he never sees anything of you nowadays. We are going to the country on Saturday, you know, and this will be our last chance of having you with us for ever so long."
"I'd like to go if mother says so," said Winifred, rather pleased at the prospect of this little change.
"Oh, that's all right; everything is arranged, and here comes your mother to speak for herself."
Winifred turned eagerly to Mrs. Hamilton, who had just entered the room.
"Mother, Aunt Estelle wants me to go home with her to spend the night. May I go?"
"Yes, dear," said her mother, smiling, "I should like to have you go. I expect to be very busy this afternoon, and Aunt Estelle says Uncle Will wants to see you very much."
"Norah is cleaning silver to-day," Mrs. Meredithsaid, as she rose to go. "You should have seen her face when I told her I was coming for you."
Winifred looked flattered.
"I always helped Norah clean silver," she said, "and sometimes I used to read to her. I'll take 'Denise and Ned Toodles' and read this afternoon."
The matter having been thus arranged, Mrs. Meredith hurried away to do her errands, promising to return for Winifred in a couple of hours.
"You're sure you won't miss me very much, mother," Winifred said anxiously, as she was bidding her mother good-bye. "It's only for one night, you know, and that is quite different from going away for a real visit."
"Of course it is," said Mrs. Hamilton, laughing. "Now run along with Aunt Estelle, sweetheart, and have a good time. I will come for you early to-morrow morning."
"Mother does seem very busy to-day," remarked Winifred, rather wonderingly, as she walked along by her aunt's side. "I wonder what she's going to do this afternoon. It can't be the preserves, because they're 'most done."
Mrs. Meredith made no answer, and Winifred soon forgot her curiosity in the interest of other subjects. But she would have wondered a good deal more if she could have heard the words her mother was at that moment saying to Lizzie, for no sooner had the door closed behind Winifred and her aunt than Mrs. Hamilton hurried back to the kitchen.
"We can begin right away now, Lizzie," she said, laughing; "the darling is safely out of the way for the rest of the day, and we shall have to work like beavers to accomplish all we have to do. In the first place, I want you to come with me to the storeroom, and help me to get out that big trunk."
Winifred had a very pleasant afternoon. She helped Norah with the silver, and read aloud to her, and then there were Hannah, the German cook, and Josephine, the French maid, to be talked to, and they both seemed much pleased to see her. In the evening Uncle Will and Aunt Estelle made much of her, and when bedtime came, although she missed her mother's good-night kiss, still it seemed so natural to be going to bed in the old familiar nursery, where she had spent so many nights, that she could almost fancy the past happy months were all a dream, and that hermother had never come back from California at all.
"Only no dream could possibly be so lovely as it really is," she said to herself, settling herself comfortably on her pillow when Aunt Estelle had put out the light and gone away. "Oh, I am glad it isn't a dream, but something really true. I was a wicked girl to wish I could go to the country and do something different, when I've got such lots and lots of things to be happy about."
"This is the very perfection of a summer's day," Mr. Meredith remarked at the breakfast table next morning. "I wish I were not obliged to spend it cooped up in my office. A trip to the seaside now would be very much to my liking."
"We're going to take excursions sometimes this summer," said Winifred brightly. "Father says perhaps we may go down to Manhattan Beach for a Sunday. Did you ever go to Manhattan Beach, Uncle Will?"
"Yes, several times. I have been to Navesink too. Isn't that where your friends, the Bells, are spending the summer?"
"Yes; Lulu says it's a beautiful place. She asked me to come for a visit, but I can't leave mother."
"Too bad, isn't it?" observed Mr. Meredith, with his eyes on his plate. "Halloo, there's the door bell; I wonder who can be coming to see us so early in the morning."
"Why, it's father and mother," exclaimed Winifred joyfully, springing down from her chair, and darting out into the hall as Norah opened the front door. "Oh, mother, dear, you are early. We've only just finished breakfast."
"It is such a lovely morning," said Mrs. Hamilton, returning her little daughter's rapturous embrace, "that your father and I thought we would take a trip down the bay."
"Oh, how nice," cried Winifred, clapping her hands. "And isn't it funny? Uncle Will and I have just been talking about trips. Are you sure you can really get away for a whole day, father?"
"I think I can manage it," said Mr. Hamilton, laughing. "Now run and get ready, little one, for our boat leaves at ten, and it's after nine already."
Winifred flew upstairs for her belongings, told the good news to Josephine, and was back again in less than five minutes. She found her father and mother in the dining room with Uncle Will and Aunt Estelle. They had evidently been talking about something which amused them, forevery one was smiling, but as soon as Winifred came in Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton rose to go.
"Good-bye, Winnie darling," said Mrs. Meredith, kissing her little niece affectionately, "it has been like a bit of old times having you back with us. You won't forget to write, Mollie?" she added in a lower tone to Mrs. Hamilton, as the two ladies went out into the hall together.
"Good-bye, mousie, and don't forget us," said Uncle Will, as Winifred lifted her face for his good-bye kiss. "I don't know how we shall manage to get on without you all summer."
"Why, mother," said Winifred, looking puzzled, as they hurried away towards the elevated railroad station, "Uncle Will and Aunt Estelle said good-bye just as if they weren't going to see us again, and they're not going to the country till Saturday."
"Perhaps they were afraid something might prevent our meeting again before they leave," said Mrs. Hamilton, rather evasively.
That sail down the bay was a new and very delightful experience to Winifred. She had never traveled much, and every new object of interest was a delight to her. The big, crowded steamboat, the beautiful bay, the Statue of Liberty, and the other interesting sights made the little girl feelas if she could not take in so many new wonders all at once, and she asked innumerable questions about everything, all of which her father and mother answered readily.