THURSDAY.
"Great 'citement going on, isn't they, Uncle?" Berta hurried through
the hall, lugging a suitcase almost as large as herself. It did not
matter that there was nothing in it; that Aunt Mandy was taking a
valise into which she had put two little dresses and two little suits
for fear that, by evening, those the children were wearing would not be
fit to be seen. But a valise was not a suitcase; and Berta, who had
made up her mind to travel in proper style, insisted, "Ev'ybody going
on a train always takes a shootcase."
"Leave that at the head of the stairs, and I shall carry it down for
you. If you should fall with it, there _would_ be some excitement."
"Very well, Uncle." And the child pattered down to join the group in
the lower hall.
Then Beth thought of Fluff; and Mary hurried upstairs for the little
covered basket which she had promised the twins, while Wilhelmina ran
off to find the kitten. At last it was time to say good-bye; but when
Mrs. Selwyn stooped to kiss Beth, the child drew back, her lips
quivering.
"But----but isn't you and Daddy coming, too, Mother?"
"Not this morning, dear; but we shall be out there as early as possible
this afternoon."
"Then----then I guess I'se going to wait till this afternoon-time,
too." And seating herself on the lowest step of the stairs, she took
off her hat.
"But, Beth----then----then I isn't going, too, till this
afternoon-time, 'cause we's twins, you know, and we must do ev'ything
'zactly the same." Berta took her place beside her sister.
"Surely, Beth, you will not spoil the day for your little guests; for,
of course, Dick and Jack will not care to go to Maryvale without you
and Berta. And what will Aunt Mary and the Sisters and all your little
friends at the convent think? They are looking forward to your visit.
If I were to go down town to do some shopping, I would be away for the
greater part of the day, you know, and you would think nothing of that.
Come, dear, put on your hat and help Berta with the basket. Just think
how many people you will make happy to-day."
Those in the hall drew a deep breath when the carriage door closed on
the travelers. Half way to the ferry, Berta remembered the suitcase,
which Mr. Selwyn had quietly slipped out of sight during the little
delay at the front door. But the Doctor insisted that they would miss
the train if they went back for it, so the little girl had to content
herself with the basket containing the kitten. On the train, Aunt
Mandy had her hands full; for the twins thought it was "puffeckly
drefful" to keep Fluff shut up in such a way and took her out of the
basket, placing her on the seat between them. But the kitten had her
own ideas about traveling; and jumping off the seat, she raced up and
down the aisle with the four after her. Under the seats, around the
feet of the passengers, she scampered, until first one, then another of
the children came back to Aunt Mandy, bumped and bruised. The poor old
soul gave a great sigh of relief when, with the help of three of the
large girls from the convent, she had them safely seated in the
wagonette.
As they neared Bird-a-Lea, the children strained their eyes for the
first glimpse of the new home; and when Patrick, the driver, turned in
at the east gate and drove slowly up the broad, curving driveway, they
clapped their hands in great glee. On past the house and down the
drive to the west gate they went, then up the road to Maryvale. Mother
Madeline was at the front door to welcome them. She had to hear of the
new red wheelbarrow and the garden sets, of the surprises and
accidents, of everything, in fact, that Dick and the twins could
remember; and baby Jack put the finishing touches to the story by
lisping, "Big fire! Burn Berta! Litha run fatht!" Of course, Mother
Madeline pretended not to understand him, and the other three did not
try to explain what he meant.
Such romps and frolics as they had with the little boarders; and when
noontime came, a picnic luncheon was served under the trees.
To the great joy of the other three, Mother Madeline thought Jack was
the only one who needed an afternoon nap; and as he was already half
asleep, he went willingly into the house with Aunt Mandy. Then Sister
Austin asked help to unpack school supplies; and trip after trip the
children made, carrying boxes of chalk, pencils, and erasers, and
packages of paper from the packing-box at the side door to the big
press at the end of the hall. At first, Berta, Beth, and Dick walked
very carefully on the polished floor; but it was not long before they
followed the example of the other children, who made the return trips
with a run and a long slide. When the packing-case was empty. Sister
Austin opened a box of pencils, which she had laid aside on the window
sill, and let the children take their choice. Dick spied a red, white,
and blue striped one with a little gilt eagle instead of an eraser; and
to keep from seizing it, he had to slip out of his place and go to the
end of the line and say over and over to himself, "Ladies first.
Father always says, 'Ladies first!'" His heart sank when one of the
little girls picked it up; but she saw a bright green one with an
emerald at the end of it, which she liked better. The little fellow's
sigh of relief was not lost on Sister Austin, who had noticed him
changing his place in the line. He felt safe now, for all but the
twins had chosen, and he was sure that Berta would take a red pencil,
and Beth a blue one. At last the striped one was safe in his little
brown fist; and Sister Austin gave him a pat on the head and let him
choose a pencil for Jack.
"Now, I shall put these that are left into the press and lock the doors
until Monday. What a busy time we shall have down here that day!"
"Sister, please tell me the name of this beauty red stone in my pencil?"
"That is a make believe ruby, Berta, and Beth's is a sapphire."
"Oh, oh! Please, Sister, is they any other blue pencils in the box, or
a white one?"
"Why, yes, Beth, here is a pale blue one with a turquoise in it."
"I think that's _ever_ so much more beauty than this one; doesn't you,
Sister?"
"I prefer the sapphire myself, Beth, but there is no reason why you may
not have this other one."
"Beth doesn't like nennything with fire in it so very well, Sister, and
I doesn't, too; and that's why she likes the turkey pencil best of all."
Sister Austin turned to the shelves to hide a smile; for she had heard
of the event of the day before.
Presently, Mother Madeline came for the children. "Your father has
just telephoned to say that they are leaving on the four-thirty train;
and as Patrick is going to the station with the wagonette to meet them,
I thought you might like to go, too. Aunt Mandy is waiting to wash
your faces and hands."
A half hour later, the four with the old nurse were ready at the front
door.
"Be sure to bring them all back with you, Aunt Mandy. We shall have an
early supper for them. Bird-a-Lea is still very much upset, and Liza
is too tired to try to get a meal this evening."
"Jes' as yo' says, Miss May-ree." For to the old servant, Mother
Madeline was still her dear Miss Mary. "Jes' as yo' says. Lord lub
yo'! Dey all am sho'ly tiahed out aftah dese days ob teahin' up an'
teahin' down an' packin' an' eberyt'ing, an' I'se gwine to delivah yo'
message persackly de way yo's done tol' me, I sahtinly is."
It would be hard to tell how many blessings the old woman would have
heaped on Mother Madeline's head if she had known that there were two
guest rooms at the convent ready for Mrs. Selwyn and Mrs. Marvin, with
two little cribs in each. Mary could share Wilhelmina's room, and
Mother Madeline knew that her brother and Mr. Selwyn would be
comfortable at Bird-a-Lea in the two bedrooms which she and some of the
Sisters had put in fairly good order for them. Nor had Aunt Mandy and
Liza been forgotten.
"So you see, little folks, someone else can 'make s'prises,' too," she
laughed when, helping to serve at the supper table, she had told her
plans for the night.
"I have always said that we are a very surprising family, Aunt Mary.
It seems to me that nothing should really surprise us any more after
all the wonderful things that have happened this summer."
"Perhaps you are right, Mary; but I feel quite sure that the
's'prises,' though not so important, will be greater in number from now
on."
The little ones had found one day at Maryvale so pleasant that they did
not need to be coaxed to spend a second and a third there; and with
them safely out of the way, the new home was quickly put in order.