John was expected on the five o'clock stage. Mrs. John had been there
three days now, and John's father and mother were almost packed up--so
Mrs. John said. The auction would be to-morrow at nine o'clock, and with
John there to see that things "hustled"--which last was really
unnecessary to mention, for John's very presence meant "hustle"--with
John there, then, the whole thing ought to be over by one o'clock, and
they off in season to 'catch the afternoon express.
And what a time it had been--those three days!
Mrs. John, resting in the big chair on the front porch, thought of those
days with complacency--that they were over. Grandpa and Grandma Burton,
hovering over old treasures in the attic, thought of them with terrified
dismay--that they had ever begun.
I am coming up on Tuesday [Mrs. John had written]. We have been thinking
for some time that you and father ought not to be left alone up there on
the farm any longer. Now don't worry about the packing. I shall bring
Marie, and you won't have to lift your finger. John will come Thursday
night, and be there for the auction on Friday. By that time we shall
have picked out what is worth saving, and everything will be ready for
him to take matters in hand. I think he has already written to the
auctioneer, so tell father to give himself no uneasiness on that score.
John says he thinks we can have you back here with us by Friday night,
or Saturday at the latest. You know John's way, so you may be sure there
will be no tiresome delay. Your rooms here will be all ready before I
leave, so that part will be all right.
This may seem a bit sudden to you, but you know we have always told you
that the time was surely coming when you couldn't live alone any longer.
John thinks it has come now; and, as I said before, you know John, so,
after all, you won't be surprised at his going right ahead with things.
We shall do everything possible to make you comfortable, and I am sure
you will be very happy here.
Good-bye, then, until Tuesday. With love to both of you.