WHAT WAS “IN THE WIND”
It was afternoon, and the Baltimore express was nearing the station
at Old Point. From the window of the parlor car three very solemn
little faces were looking out at the familiar landscape. It did not
seem possible that less than twenty-four hours had elapsed since they
had seen it last. It seemed to the children that they must have been
away for at least a month. It had not been a cheerful journey, for Mr.
Barlow was very much annoyed, and had had a long serious talk with his
small son and daughter, in the course of which Jerry and Geraldine had
both been reduced to repentant tears.
“When Father scolds he’s much worse than Mother,” Geraldine whispered
to Gretel. “He doesn’t get angry often, but when he does it’s something
awful. We really have been dreadfully bad. Father says when Mother got
our letter, and found the boat had gone, she was so frightened she had
hysterics. Did you ever see any one have hysterics?”
Gretel said she never had.
“Then you don’t want to. We’ve seen Mother lots of times and it’s
awful. Miss Heath was frightened, too, and so was your brother. I
wonder if you’ll be punished when you get home.”
“Of course she won’t,” declared Jerry, indignantly; “it wasn’t her
fault; she only came to take care of us. I’m going to tell Mr. Douane
so the minute I see him.”
Gretel gave her little friend a grateful glance.
“I shouldn’t like Percy to be angry with me,” she said. “I wonder if
he’ll be at the station.”
“I guess he will,” said Jerry. “Father says he would have come on
the night train to Baltimore with him, only they couldn’t be quite
sure you were with us, so he had to stay and look for you, but Father
telegraphed this morning as soon as he found us on the boat, so
everybody knows now.”
“Here’s the station,” announced Geraldine from the car window, “and
there are Mr. Douane and Miss Heath on the platform. O dear! I wish my
hair wasn’t so mussed, and my dress so dirty. Miss Heath always looks
so neat.”
They certainly were a dilapidated looking party as they stepped from
the train, and were greeted by their waiting friends. The absence of
the usual combing and scrubbing was painfully apparent, and all three
children looked very much the worse for wear. But Miss Heath and Mr.
Douane were so thankful to see the three little faces again that they
were quite ready to overlook deficiencies.
“Mr. Douane,” said Jerry, walking straight up to Gretel’s brother,
in his honest, fearless way, “we want to tell you right off that you
mustn’t punish Gretel. It wasn’t her fault. She only came on the
boat to make us go home, but we wouldn’t mind her, and then the boat
started, and she had to come along, but she didn’t want to one bit.”
“What did I tell you, Percy?” cried Miss Heath, triumphantly. “I knew
Gretel would never do such a thing voluntarily.” And, to everybody’s
surprise the pretty young lady caught Gretel in her arms and hugged her.
“How’s Mother?” Geraldine inquired, rather timidly. It was quite
wonderful how meek both the twins were at that moment.
Miss Heath looked grave.
“Your mother is better this afternoon,” she said, “but she has been
very ill. It was a terrible experience for her.”
Miss Heath spoke in a tone the twins had never heard her use before,
and regarded the two little culprits with such sternness in her gaze,
that they both quailed beneath it.
“Were you very much frightened, Pussy?” Mr. Douane asked kindly, as he
and his little sister walked back to the hotel together.
“It was pretty frightening,” Gretel admitted, slipping her hand into
her brother’s as she spoke, “but I thought God would take care of us,
and He did. Were you worried about me, Percy?”
“Very much indeed. When I came back from Hampton, and Higgins met me
with the astounding news that you had gone out in the storm without
even a hat on, I could not imagine what had happened. I went over to
the Barlows’ cottage, and found myself in the midst of such a scene
of excitement as I had never even imagined. The twins’ note had been
discovered, and poor Mrs. Barlow was in violent hysterics. Of course
we thought you must have gone with the others, and yet it seemed very
strange. Miss Heath and Higgins were both convinced that you would
never have done such a thing, and besides, your name was not mentioned
in the note. I can tell you it was a great relief to our minds when
Mr. Barlow’s telegram arrived this morning.”
“Mr. Barlow was very kind,” said Gretel. “He bought me this hat in
Baltimore before we went on the train. I should have hated to come all
the way home without a hat. He paid the people on the boat too, and
gave the stewardess a present for being so good to the twins when they
were seasick. I’m so glad Miss Heath didn’t believe I went because I
wanted to. She said she always felt safe about Jerry and Geraldine when
I was with them. That’s one reason why I ran after them when I saw them
going on the boat.”
“Miss Heath is coming over to see you by and by,” said Mr. Douane,
smiling. “I think she has something to talk to you about.”
Gretel looked very much pleased.
It made her feel quite grown-up and important to hear that a young lady
wanted to talk to her.
“I love Miss Heath better than any one I ever knew except Father and
you,” she said; “I’m so glad you like her, too, Percy. Don’t you hope
we shall keep on seeing her when we go back to New York?”
“I most certainly do,” agreed Mr. Douane, and there was such an odd
expression in his eyes that Gretel regarded him rather curiously.
“You look as if you were very happy about something,” she remarked
wonderingly; “is it because I’ve come back?”
“Partly for that reason, and partly for something else,” her brother
answered evasively, and Gretel did not like to ask any more questions
on the subject.
“It was nice of Jerry to tell you why I went with them,” she said, by
way of changing the subject. “I like Jerry very much; he’s so honest;
he doesn’t talk much, but he thinks a lot. He’s very fond of Miss
Heath, too. I’m so glad you will want to see Miss Heath after we leave
here. It’s very sad to get fond of people, and then never see them any
more.”
“It is indeed,” responded her brother. “I have had one experience of
that kind myself, and I don’t want another. I lost Miss Heath once, but
I don’t intend to lose her again if I can help it.”
Gretel was much interested, and would have liked to ask a number of
questions, but at that moment they reached the hotel, and found Higgins
eagerly watching for them from the piazza.
Higgins greeted her little charge with a burst of genuine affection.
She had grown very fond of Gretel, and her joy and triumph when she
discovered that she had been correct in her conviction that the child
had not run away voluntarily, was almost as great as Miss Heath’s had
been. She took Gretel up-stairs to her room, where she insisted on
undressing her at once and putting her to bed.
“You look about ready to drop,” she declared. “To think hof a young
lady like you going to bed with ’er clothes on, and running hoff
without heven a comb or a tooth-brush, fairly sends chills down my
spine.”
Gretel protested that she was not at all tired, but Higgins was firm,
and really the warm bath, and soft, comfortable bed were very pleasant.
“A bed is much more comfortable than a berth on a steamboat,” she
remarked, with a sigh of content, as she nestled down between the cool,
clean sheets. “I wonder if Jerry and Geraldine have gone to bed, too.”
Jerry and Geraldine had gone to bed, but they were not in by any means
such good spirits as their friend. The sight of their mother’s white,
haggard face and swollen eyes, had been more of a rebuke to the two
little sinners than any amount of punishment, and Geraldine’s first
action on reaching home was to fling herself on Mrs. Barlow’s neck,
with a burst of remorseful tears.
“Oh, Mother dearest, please, please punish us,” she sobbed. “We’d
rather be punished than talked to, we really would. We’re so dreadfully
sorry, and it was most all my fault, because Jerry never thought of it
till I put the idea into his head.”
It was late in the evening when Gretel awoke from a long, refreshing
nap, to find the faithful Higgins sewing by her bedside. She was
feeling decidedly better, and also very hungry.
“May I have some supper?” was her first question, when Higgins had told
her what time it was, and complimented her upon her improved appearance.
Higgins said she would go down-stairs, and order something from the
dining-room.
“And I’ll tell Miss ’Eath you’re hawake,” she added. “She’s been up
twice halready, but you were asleep both times. Mr. Douane told me to
let them know the minute you hawoke; they’re hon the piazza together. I
said there was something in the wind; I know the signs.”
Higgins departed, leaving Gretel very much puzzled by her last words.
This was not the first time she had heard “there was something in the
wind,” and she was beginning to be decidedly curious as to what it
could be. She was not kept long in suspense, however, for in a very
few minutes the door opened, and Miss Heath herself came in, looking
prettier than ever, with all her dimples showing, and the brightest
color Gretel had ever seen in her cheeks.
“I’m so glad you came to see me,” said the little girl joyfully, as her
friend, after kissing her, drew a chair to the bedside. “I’ve had such
a nice nap, and I’m not a bit tired now, only hungry.”
“Higgins has gone to order some supper for you,” said Miss Heath, “and
while we are waiting for it I have come to have a little chat. I want
to tell you about something which has made me very happy.”
“Oh, I’m so glad,” cried Gretel, and she took Miss Heath’s hand and
kissed it in the pretty foreign way her father had taught her. “I know
you must be happy; your eyes shine so. Has somebody you love very much
come to take care of you, just as Percy came to take care of me? But,
oh, I forgot; you haven’t any brothers, have you?”
“No, I haven’t any brothers,” said Miss Heath, smiling, “but you are
not so far wrong in your guess, Gretel; some one I love, and who loves
me, is going to take care of me, and I am very, very happy.”
“Is it a gentleman?” inquired Gretel, with a sudden flash of intuition,
“and do you mean you are going to be married, Miss Heath?”
Miss Heath laughed a rather embarrassed laugh, and kissed Gretel again.
“You clever kiddie,” she said; “what made you guess? Yes, I am going to
be married to one of the nicest men in the world--aren’t you glad?”
“Yes,” said Gretel, with a little catch in her voice, “I’m very glad
for you, only--only if you get married I suppose you’ll go away, and
perhaps I won’t ever see you any more. Percy and I were talking about
you this afternoon, and we both hoped so much that we should go on
seeing you when we went back to New York.”
“So you shall,” promised Miss Heath. “My home is to be in New York, or
near it, and I hope we shall love each other very dearly, Gretel.”
“Then I am just as glad as I can be!” cried impulsive Gretel, and she
threw her arms round Miss Heath’s neck and hugged her.
Miss Heath returned the embrace heartily, and then she took Gretel’s
hand, and held it, as she went on with her story.
“I have known the--the gentleman for several years,” she said. “We met
in China, and he and my father were very good friends, but when my
father was taken ill, and we left Hong-Kong suddenly, we lost sight of
each other for a time. When my dear father died I was very unhappy and
very lonely. I came to New York by myself, and hired a hall bedroom in
a boarding-house. I could not afford anything better, for my father was
not rich, and when he died there was very little money left. I have an
uncle in Chicago, who wanted to help me, but he has a large family of
his own, and I did not want to be a burden to him. So I struggled along
as well as I could, giving music lessons to the few pupils I could
obtain, but it was a very different life from that to which I had been
accustomed. When you told me about your life at Mrs. Marsh’s, and how
you used to long for a little music, I thought of myself in the sad,
lonely days last winter.
“But one day, just when things seemed about as bad and hopeless as
they could be, I received a kind letter from Mrs. Barlow, asking me to
join her family, come down here with them, and teach the children for
the rest of the season. That was less than a month ago, but since then
everything has changed for me, and now I am so happy that I don’t feel
as if I could ever be sad or lonely again.”
“I’m just as glad as I can be,” declared Gretel, heartily; “it’s the
nicest story I ever heard, but--but, would you mind telling me about
how you found the gentleman again?”
“I found him right here at Old Point; wasn’t it wonderful, Gretel? We
had both come here without having the least idea of finding each other.”
“Do Jerry and Geraldine know about it?” asked Gretel.
“Not yet, but they will to-morrow. I wanted you to know first,
because--well, you see, Gretel dear, you know the gentleman.”
“I know him!” cried Gretel, sitting up in bed, and regarding her friend
with wide, astonished eyes. “Why, I don’t know any gentleman except
Percy and Mr. Barlow, and--oh, Miss Heath, I hope he isn’t that old Mr.
Oliver, with the bald head.”
Miss Heath broke into a merry laugh, which was echoed by another laugh,
as Mr. Douane--who had been lingering outside the door--suddenly
appeared on the threshold.
“Old Mr. Oliver; that is a good guess!” he cried, merrily. “Why, he has
had three wives already, I believe. Come now, Gretel, can’t you think
who the happy man is?”
Gretel gazed from one happy face to the other in growing bewilderment,
but before she could speak, Mr. Douane himself settled the question in
her mind by putting his arm round Miss Heath, and kissing her.
“I do believe I’m the happiest girl in the whole world,” sobbed Gretel.
“I don’t know what makes me cry when I’m so glad, but I can’t help it.
I thought it was beautiful enough to have a brother, but to have a
sister too--oh, Miss Heath, dear, I’m going to try so very hard to be
good enough to deserve you.”