TWO SURPRISES
"It seems awfully queer to me," remarked Bess, sitting in the Charlton
Street parlor one afternoon in May, reading a recently received letter
with a foreign postmark, "that Margaret says absolutely nothing at all,
lately, about whether they've done any work in hunting up clues to the
sapphire signet mystery!"
"Neither does Corinne," added Jess, looking over a similarly marked
letter that she held. "They've neither one mentioned the subject
since they sent up that snap-shot of the Tobacco Rocks some weeks
ago. Corinne said then that they'd driven to see them one day, and
she had 'snapped' them for our special benefit, because Alexander had
discovered that it was from there the stolen gunpowder was shipped. I
don't think they had much, if anything, to do with _our_ affair, so I
wasn't so much interested in them. I never felt at all convinced that
those two happenings had any connection whatever."
"Nor I, either!" agreed Bess. "I wonder whether they _have_ looked up
anything about Alison, or whether they've been having such a good time
that they've forgotten it completely! My! but I envy them! Here we are
in this mussy, foggy, chilly, wretched city,—grubbing along at high,
without even time to have a game of basket-ball, lately! And listen to
what Margaret says of their surroundings:
"'You never saw such blue, blue water in your life! And the weather's
so warm that Corinne and her father have been in bathing several times!
I never saw any one _swim_ before! Corinne swims beautifully! It is
so lovely in this place that I'm sure Heaven couldn't be any more
beautiful. I begin to feel so much stronger! I'm out every day and all
of the day! Isn't that wonderful—for me! Mr. Cameron says he feels
like a new being, too. We are going to stay two weeks longer, because
it's doing us all so much good.'"
"Bless her heart!" cried Jess. "I'm just the gladdest girl that ever
was because she could go and is getting on so well. Do you know, I
believe she'd have died pretty soon if she'd kept on as she was the
last of the winter! I felt perfectly certain then, that she wasn't
going to live, though I never told a soul! I was absolutely in despair
about her!"
"Same here!" echoed Bess. "I was going through some mental tortures,
too, but I wasn't bothering any one else with them! Corinne and her
father just saved Margaret's life, _I_ believe. But here's something
queer in her letter! I just came to it. She ends by saying:
"'We have _two surprises_ for you, but you are not to know a thing
about them till we get home! Oh, I can just see you _wiggling_ with
impatience to know what they are! But it's useless for you to beg; not
a word will we whisper till we land in America!'
"Now _what_ do you make of that?" demanded the bewildered Bess.
The day came at last, when the travelers were expected to land once
more on their native shores. To the twins it had seemed an interminable
age—the more so since the intended absence of a month had lengthened
itself to ten long weeks. It had taken longer to restore Mr. Cameron's
health than he had imagined, and, besides, Margaret had improved so
perceptibly that they decided to stretch the time of the trip to the
limit.
They had sailed away on a stormy day in March. They were expected back
on the rarest kind of a day in June, and the entire Charlton Street
household was assembled at the pier to meet the incoming steamer. This
had been the request of Mr. Cameron himself, who had written to Mrs.
Bronson that, for a sufficient reason, he wished every one of them to
be there, including Sarah.
It was four o'clock on a golden afternoon when the _Bermudian_ came
steaming slowly up the river, picking her stately course among the
heavy ferry-boats and darting tugs that blocked the way. Alexander,
from a perilous perch on one end of the pier, announced its coming
with a whooping and a waving of his cap, at which Sarah muttered awful
remarks, sounding like "Let him drown if he falls over—the young
spalpeen!" With beating hearts they scanned the decks as the vessel
drew close to the side, and the twins quickly picked out Corinne and
her father waving from the side. But of Margaret they could discern not
a sign, and an awful dread seized them that she must be too ill to be
with the others.
By a special permit, obtained through Mr. Cameron, they had been
admitted within the custom-house lines to the very gangway entrance
itself. After maddening delays the vessel was at last made fast, the
gangways adjusted, and the throngs began to come ashore. It was toward
the last that the ones they were waiting for so anxiously appeared at
the top, and then it was only Corinne and her father and aunt who came
down.
"But, oh! where is _Margaret_?" cried Bess, as Corinne rushed to
embrace her. "Why isn't she with you?"
"Oh, she'll be along in a minute!" announced Corinne, unconcernedly.
Then suddenly she turned, and said quietly:
"Look!"
They turned at her command, and glanced upward expecting to see their
sister in her usual wheel-chair. Instead, there at the top of the
gangway—_stood_ Margaret, rosy, plump, and browned by the sun! And
under her arms were a pair of _crutches_! When she saw her own family
below, she blew them a kiss, adjusted her crutches, and proceeded down
the gangway alone, haltingly, it is true, but refusing the assistance
of the anxious steward who hovered behind her!
To the members of her family, who never in all their lives had beheld
her on her feet, the sight was almost overwhelming. The twins and their
mother were actually too stunned to speak, and Alexander relieved
himself only by a low-muttered, "_Can_ you beat it!"—his favorite
expression of surprise. But it was Sarah who did the most astonishing
thing. She tore up the gangway, snatched Margaret when she was but
half-way down, and bore her back, crutches and all, to the group below,
crying:
"Me little darlint! It's true! It's true! I didn't believe it!"
The Charlton Street house was a scene that night of such festivity and
rejoicing as it had probably never known before in all its history.
Corinne and her father and aunt had accompanied the Bronsons home, and
stayed to a feast that Sarah had evolved in some sudden and mysterious
manner, for she had been away from the house all of the afternoon. But
Sarah was an adept at such bits of necromancy. Then, when the older
folks were still talking hard and fast, the five young people drew
apart by themselves, and Jess said:
"Now, for goodness' sake, explain the whole business again! My brain is
so bewildered I can't seem to understand it all yet!"
It was Corinne who tried to straighten out the tangle. She told how,
before they started on their trip, her father had suddenly become
possessed with the idea that perhaps something could be done to help
Margaret's trouble if only the right physician could be found. It
happened that he was personally acquainted with a doctor famous for
his success in this very kind of case and who also usually spent a
few weeks at that season of the year in Bermuda. If Margaret could
be helped by any one in the world, Mr. Cameron felt sure it would be
by this surgeon. So he privately made up his mind that the famous
specialist should be consulted as soon as they got there. But of this
he said not a word to any one, lest it should only be a cause of
disappointment in case no good was accomplished.
Corinne laughed, however, when she said there was one exception to
this. On the night when Sarah had issued her awful ultimatum, Mr.
Cameron made up his mind that the only way to influence her was to tell
her, privately, his hopes for Margaret. This he did, and it had the
remarkable effect that had so bewildered them. This, also, was the
reason why Sarah seemed the least surprised and had said such strange
things that day at the pier.
The doctor had been consulted soon after they reached Bermuda and when
Margaret had grown a little stronger. His verdict was that with a
certain kind of treatment there was a slight hope that she might some
day recover the use of her limbs. This treatment she had had during the
whole of their stay, with the wonderful result that, two weeks before
their return, Margaret took her first steps with the crutches. The
specialist himself was returning to New York shortly and would continue
his work with her. He was now almost positive that she might, in the
course of time, even discard her crutches and walk alone, on her two
feet, unassisted, like the rest of ordinary humanity. It was a treat to
watch the beaming happiness on Margaret's face while Corinne rehearsed
this tale. It spoke more eloquently than any words she could have
uttered.
"Well, that's your big surprise!" sighed Bess, contentedly. "And it
certainly is a monster one! Now what's the other? You know you wrote
that there were two!"
"The other's almost as big!" exclaimed Margaret, her eyes snapping with
eagerness. "We've found out the _whole_ history of Alison, and solved
every bit of the mystery!"
"_No!_" cried three of the listeners in astonishment. "Honestly? Tell
us—right away! We thought you'd forgotten all about it!"
"No," said Margaret, "I'm not going to tell you just now. To-morrow
we'll have a big old meeting of the Antiquarian Club, and we'll give
the entire account then! Not a minute before!"
"But did you find the owner of the sapphire signet?" they clamored.
And to this, also, the provoking Margaret would only lay her finger on
her lips, and smile, and murmur, "_To-morrow!_"