Evangeline had excitements of her own. As though prizes for Best Babies
were not enough, a new excitement began the very next day. Two
excitements--one on the lovely heels of the other. Evangeline, gasping
in the joyous throes of the first-comer, raced over to Miss Theodosia,
as she had learned to race with troubles as well as joys. All the way
she emitted sounds approximating steam-whistles. The very nature of the
news she was carrying suggested the sounds she made carrying it.
"The elegantest thing has happened--I mean's goin' to!" She could not
wait to get quite there, but sent her news ahead of her through the
transmitting medium of air. Miss Theodosia, on her porch, sat dreaming
her love's young dream--young, not old; not old!
"The elegant elegantest! He's goin' to be cured! He won't be deaf o'
hearin' any more! I mean he thinks he won't--I mean _he_--"
"Sit down on the step, dear. Count ten, then start again."
"Onetwothreefour--oh, I can't wait to get to ten! If your little brother
had always been deaf o' hearin' an' a doctor looked into him with a
spy-glass an' said I think this boy can be cured, I'm goin' to take him
to a hospital an' have him operated when his mother is willin' if she
gets home--I mean if she gets home when she's willin'--oh, I mean--"
"Yes, dear. Sit still. I understand, and I think she will be willing
when she gets home, don't you? Oh, Evangeline, won't we all be happy to
have Carruthers cured of his poor little deafness o' hearing! I know the
doctor, and he knows ears! We'll trust him, Evangeline. He will do
everything in the world there is to be done. And we'll stay at home and
pray."
"Pray!" cried Evangeline. Her little thin face lifted to the blue
heavens. "I've woke up right slap in the middle o' nights an' prayed:
'Oh, Lord, that made a little children an' forgot his ears, do somethin'
now--don't you think you'd ought to, O Lord? It don't seem fair not to.
He ain't ever heard Elly Precious crow, nor laugh--think o' that, dear
Lord.'" The shrill voice dropped suddenly. "But He never." Evangeline
sighed.
"Till now, dear--we hope He will now. He and the doctor who knows ears.
I thought you were so pleased and that you were--"
"Oh, yes'm, oh, I am! It was just--I was thinkin' how lovely Elly
Precious's laugh sounds an' Carruthers not ever hearin' it. So far, I
mean." Evangeline caught her courage again in both hands. "But he'll
laugh 'nough more times when he can hear--I mean when Carruthers can.
Won't it be puffectly elegant!"
It was later in the same day when the second excitement struck the
little House of Flaggs. Evangeline raced again across the separating
green grass to Miss Theodosia. This time she went at reduced speed
because she had Elly Precious over her shoulder. Miss Theodosia saw them
coming and smiled.
"More news! I know it is puffectly elegant by Evangeline's face. Well,
Evangeline?"
"Mercy gracious! Take him before I spill him! I'm so happy I joggle.
She's knittin' an' she's comin' home! I mean knittin' _enough_. She said
'my--dear--children--I--expect--to--be--home--to-morrow
--Aunt--Sarah--is--better--an'--I--can't
wait--to--see--you--your--mother--' Mercy gracious, when Stefana got to
your mother, seemed as if I'd burst! We hollered it to Carruthers, an'
he burst! An' Elly Precious knows she's comin', I know he knows. Tickle
him an' see how pleased he is!" Without comma or semicolon, to say
nothing of periods, Evangeline panted on. Out of breath at last, her
voice sat down an instant, as it were, to rest. It was up again in a
moment.
"To-morrow is most to-day! It'll be to-day to-morrow! Oh, mercy gracious
me! We're goin' to sweep under everything an' behind--every las' thing,
under 'n' behind. She won't find a grain o' dust. An' Stefana's makin'
starch."
"Mercy gracious!" softly ejaculated Miss Theodosia.
"I mean to eat in the dessert--corn-starch. We've begun to skim Elly
Precious's bottles. You can eat thin bottles, can't you, darlin' dear,
when Mother's comin' home? Corn-starch has to have cream on it--when
Mother's comin' home!" She laughed joyously. All past and creamless
corn-starches were a joke. Laughing at them was easy at this happy
moment.
"Isn't it splendid Aunt Sarah went to knittin'? Mercy gracious, I hope
she won't--won't drop a stitch for Mother to have to stay an' pick up!"
Evangeline's laugh trilled out once more.
"Do you suppose you'd dass to cut Elly Precious's hair, Miss Theodosia,
while I danced like everything an' made faces? Dutchy, you know, in the
back o' his neck--he's straggly now. I'd make awful faces--"
"I wouldn't 'dass,' dear," smiled Miss Theodosia. "I never could cut
fast enough and you never could dance hard enough--we'd hurt him."
"Well, she'll look at the front o' him first--never mind. We're goin' to
put on that darlin' little ni'gown you made, for a dress--belt it in,
you know, with a ribbon off the handle o' the clo'es-basket; Stefana's
ironed it out. An' we're goin' to pin on his blue ribbon prize."
John Bradford came that evening to sit on the porch in the soft warmth
that autumn had borrowed from summers-to-come, with promissory note to
pay it back when lovers were through with it. Miss Theodosia met him
with the news.
"Mustn't it be beautiful to be welcomed home like that, dear? If you
could have seen Evangeline's little shiny face! And the way Elly
Precious laughed--when I tickled him! And, oh, John--Do you hear me
call you John? I thought it would be hard!"
"'And, oh, John--'" he prompted, putting it yet further off by a
kiss-length.
"Oh, John, I know about Carruthers. You're going to take him away to
cure him."
"To try to cure him," John Bradford said gravely.
"You'll do it, dear--you and the Lord! Evangeline and I are trusting.
Hark, she is coming! No one else sounds like that!"
"No one else gallops--canters--breaks speed limits!" he laughed. "Now
what? More news?"
The same news over again, but Evangeline saw that which momentarily
banished it from her mind. She saw John Bradford standing behind Miss
Theodosia's chair; she saw him stoop over it.
"Mercy gracious, he kissed her!" gasped Evangeline. Something told her
to turn and gallop back, but she could not stop in time. She was already
at the foot of the steps. Awful embarrassment seized her--seized
Evangeline! In the faint, reflected lamplight from within the house she
could see the two above her looking down. Mercy gracious!
"Sit down, Evangeline."
"I'm s-sittin'--I _think_ I'm sittin' down." Up-standings and
down-sittings were confused in the general dizziness of things. Perhaps
she was standing up.
"You're not sick, are you, Evangeline? You're not saying anything."
Then Evangeline said something.
"I--I saw him--doin' it, I mean. Mercy gracious, _what'll I do_?" For
some inherited delicacy of instinct made of her a dreadful intruder; she
saw herself in the shameful act. Instinctively Evangeline knew she was
on sacred ground.
"I couldn't stop, I was goin' so fast. It's too late not to see him
doin' it; I don't know what to do."
With swift, light steps Miss Theodosia was down beside her. John
Bradford with one step was there. Evangeline looked shamefacedly up into
their two kind faces.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. For answer, John Bradford took one of Miss
Theodosia's hands and laid it on hers. He held out one of his own.
"May I have this lady to be my wedded wife, Evangeline? Will you give
her to me?" His big voice was very tender. Evangeline looked into his
shining eyes. The mystery of love swept through her small, sweet soul.
She shut her eyes as if from some light too bright for them. If she were
alone, she would say her prayers. But the tender voice was going on.
"May I have her, Evangeline--will you put her hand in mine? She is very
dear, indeed, to me." She could feel Miss Theodosia's soft hand quiver
against her own hard little palm. Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender,
too.
Then, suddenly, inspiration came to her. She laid the soft hand in the
big hand and looked up, smiling into John Bradford's face.
"I'm willin'," she said, "if you'll honor an' obey."
It was as if a silken gown enfolded Evangeline's straight little
shoulders and they heard her say: "I pronounce thee." The strange little
ceremony left them hushed.
No one spoke again for a little space. Somewhere sleepy birds twittered,
disturbed by rustling leaves or stealthy marauders. Somewhere a clock
intoned distantly. A train far away rushed through the night, perhaps to
some Lonesome Land, but they were not on it. Then John Bradford broke
the spell. He leaned down and kissed Evangeline.
A little laugh bubbled up to him. "You must've made a mistake. I'm the
wrong one--mercy gracious!"