MADAME FORSYTH COMES HOME
"No. I judge from all your faces no one expected me!" exclaimed Madame
Forsyth coldly, extending to Cornelius Allendyce the tips of her
fingers. "Harkness, you look as though you were seeing a ghost!"
Her rebuking words had the effect of galvanizing poor Harkness' limbs to
action--but not his tongue. Though he hobbled down the steps and took
the bag from the lawyer's hand, not a word could he speak from sheer
stupefaction.
And Hannah Budge so forgot her long years of loyalty to the House of
Forsyth as to cry out--"Oh, Miss Robin!" before so much as one word of
greeting for Madame Forsyth.
"You could 'a clean knocked me over," she explained to Harkness
afterward, "Our Madame going away as fine as you please with that
baggage of a Florrie who was as full of tricks as a cat after a mouse,
and coming back in that old car that had moss on it, I do believe, and
with Miss Robin, too, who they all thought was lost though _I_ knew
better. Something _told_ me to beat up that cake yesterday!"
"And Miss Robin didn't know Madame was Madame," explained Harkness, his
face perplexed. "She and Miss Beryl here've been thinking she was some
mysterious lydy or other--Williams says they got it in their little
heads she was a Queen hiding--"
"Madame hiding _where_?" snorted Budge.
"Well, _I_ can't make nothing out of it. My head goes 'round in a circle
like. Only Williams says that lydy must be the lydy the young lydies
visited, mysterious like, just afore Christmas and the lydy's our Madame
all right and that's what I say my head goes 'round in a circle!"
"Your tongue, too, Timothy Harkness. Well, there's lots going to happen
now, or my name ain't Hannah Budge. First thing, I s'pose, she'll clear
that Castle young 'un out of the house and then your Miss Beryl. And
mebbe send Miss Robin off to school somewheres to get these common
notions out o' her little head. You say they're all talking upstairs
now?"
"Only Madame and the lawyer man. Mr. Granger's gone down to the Mills to
send word to his home that Miss Robin's found."
"Saints be praised!" murmured Mrs. Budge, devoutly.
Up in her little sitting-room Robin and Beryl sat arm in arm, and Robin
told Beryl the whole story of her adventure. On the window seat beside
them lay the square box containing Dale's model.
"I just ran, Beryl, as fast as I could and _anywhere_. I was so
frightened I didn't stop to look. I fell down twice and the second time
I was so tired I could scarcely get up. But I had to. And then I thought
I'd found a path, and I followed it, but it stopped at a ravine that
was, _oh_, so deep. Well, I knew I was lost. I called and called and no
one answered. And I heard all sorts of queer noises as though there
might be wild beasts. One came very close, I'm sure, though I couldn't
see it. And I was dreadfully hungry. I sat down on a log and cried,
too--my feet ached so and my arms ached so from carrying this box. I
decided to bury it and leave a note telling about it, for, honestly,
Beryl, I didn't think then I'd live an hour longer, but I didn't have a
pencil and when I started to dig with my hands the ground was so gooy
that I couldn't bear to. Oh, I'll never forget it." She shuddered and
Beryl held her hands tighter. "And it began to get dark. I tried to be
brave and say nothing could hurt me, but I couldn't help but hear the
funny noises and I was so _awfully_ alone. I started to walk again, just
somewhere, because when I walked I couldn't hear all the sounds and
every now and then I'd call out. And just as it was almost pitch dark in
the wood something big came rushing toward me and sprang at me and,
Beryl, I fainted dead away! Well, the next thing I knew something was
licking my face. And someone was saying something queer, and Beryl, it
was Cæsar and that Brina from our House of Rushing Water! Cæsar had
heard me call and found me, and then he had barked and howled until
Brina came with a lantern."
Beryl jumped up and down in excitement.
"What happened then?" she cried.
"Brina carried me--and that box--to the house in the wood. It seemed I'd
gotten most to it and didn't know it. And the Queen was awfully
frightened. But she wouldn't let me say a word; she made Brina put me in
her bed and she covered me with blankets and she fed me herself,
something hot and oh, so good. And she kept petting me and cuddling me
for I guess I shook like a leaf. You see, I couldn't _believe_ I was
safe and sound; I kept seeing that dog jump at me! And finally she sang
to me, the nicest old-fashioned song and I went to sleep, and I never
opened my eyes until this morning, and there she stood by my bed with a
tray of nice breakfast. She wouldn't let me tell her how I got lost
until I'd eaten every crumb. And then I felt so cosy and warm and safe
that I told her everything--_everything_, all about Mother Lynch and how
my plans for the House of Laughter had failed at first, and then the
Rileys and what I thought of the Mills, and how horrid Mr. Norris was
and about Susy and poor Granny and Dale's model, and then what I'd done
at Grangers'. I just got started and I couldn't stop. And Beryl, I told
her _again_ how my aunt was an unhappy old woman who worried over her
own troubles so much that she didn't have time for other people's.
Wasn't that dreadful?" And Robin caught up a pillow and buried her face
in it.
Beryl looked troubled.
"Yes, that _was_ dreadful. What ever did she say?"
"She didn't say anything. She picked up my tray and went out, and I felt
the way I had that other time, all fussed, because I'd bothered a Queen
with my silly affairs. And I could have sworn then she was a Queen,
Beryl, she had such a dignified way of being sweet and she smelled so
nice and perfumy--a different perfume. And that Brina had put the
gorgeousest nightgown on me, too."
"When did you first know the Queen was your aunt?" Beryl broke in.
"Beryl Lynch, on my honor, not until my guardian called her Madame
Forsyth! After she took my tray out she came back, and she did look sort
of funny, now I remember, the way one does when one decides suddenly to
do something you hadn't dreamed of doing, and she told me Brina had gone
into the village to hunt up some sort of a vehicle to get me back to the
Manor. And I didn't think until the last moment that she meant to come,
too. And all the way over I was nearly bursting thinking how surprised
you'd be and what fun it would be to have the Queen visit us. Oh, dear!"
And Robin drew a long breath, half sigh.
"Well, something'll happen _now_," groaned Beryl, in much the same tone
Budge had used. "When she finds out about Susy and me!"
And below in the library the same thought held Robin's
guardian--something must happen, now.
He had gone there to wait while Madame Forsyth freshened herself after
her long ride. And while he waited, in considerable apprehension, he
planned the course he would follow; if Madame refused to accept little
Red-Robin as her heir, because she was a girl and _different_, why, he'd
take her back with him to his own home. She could live with him and his
sister until Jimmie came back and he'd even adopt her if Jimmie would
let him. And he'd take Beryl, too, if Robin wished--and he'd see Susy
was put with some nice family.
But where in the world had Robin found her aunt--or her aunt found
Robin. Everyone acted as though they were knocked stupid by the
mystery--no one had offered a word of explanation. He rubbed his
forehead as though it might have circles, too.
"Which shall we hear first?" a voice asked behind him, "How _you_
happened to bring little Robin here--or how _I_ did?"
The words startled him more because of their tone than their
unexpectedness. And turning, he saw (to his immense relief) that Madame
Forsyth was smiling--and in her eyes was a softened look, though they
were shadowed with fatigue.
"I am immensely curious, I must admit, as to where you found Robin, but
I feel that I owe you the first explanation."
He told then, of his first visit to Patchin Place and of his finding
little Robin in her curious surroundings.
"I really cannot say just what put the notion in my head of taking her
to the Manor--I think it was something appealing about the child."
"You are more honest to admit that than I expected, Cornelius Allendyce.
Your silence in regard to her being a girl might seem inexcusable to me
only that I am glad, now, that you kept silence. For I would have most
certainly, then, sent her back. And--I am glad that never happened. You
see _I_ can be honest, too."
"Before I can explain my finding the child in this last plight of hers I
must tell you a little of my 'wanderings' since I left the Manor. They
were not far. I went to New York and reserved passage on a steamer
sailing for the Mediterranean the next week. That evening I saw the 'for
sale' notice of a house in the Connecticut woods, which advertised
absolute seclusion. I telephoned to my banker, who has been in my
confidence, and he made a hurried trip to Brown's Mill and bought the
house, just as it stood. The next day I discharged Florrie, cancelled my
sailing reservations, picked up a strong German woman for a cook, bought
a dog and rode out to my new home. It offered all that I had hoped it
would. There I planned to find a change that would be a rest, to forget
the world about me and live in my past, which was all I had. And for
several weeks I did--until two girls broke in upon my precious privacy."
She told of Robin and Beryl's first visit and then of their second, and
of the gifts they brought from the Manor.
"I confess it was a shock to me to discover that this child was--Gordon
Forsyth. Yet it was the shock I needed to rouse me from my depression.
For, like you, I fell quickly under the girl's charm. From that day on I
found I could not hold my thoughts to my past--in spite of me they
persisted in dwelling upon the present--and the future. You see I am
frank with you."
Cornelius Allendyce nodded. He dared not speak for he did not want to
betray the relief he felt.
"I do not think I would have returned to the Manor for several weeks
yet, for my health has singularly benefited by my--unusual change,
except that this escapade of Robin's made me feel that I was needed
here. Something she said made up my mind for me, rather quickly.
Cornelius Allendyce--that child has a great gift. It is the gift of
giving. An unusual talent in the Forsyth family, you are thinking! But
like all talents it ought to be trained and directed and strengthened
and my work is--to do it. I had thought my life lived--but it is not,
and I am happy to have found it so. I am too old, perhaps, to learn the
new ways but I am not too old to safeguard them."
"You are a wonderful old woman," the lawyer answered, quite
involuntarily and with such instant alarm at his audacity that Madame
Forsyth smiled.
"Oh, no. I am not wonderful at all. I am revealing my heart to you, now,
in a way I do not often open it, but I shall, to my last day, probably,
be a proud, overbearing old woman with a sharp tongue. You, however,
will know what is underneath."
There was a moment's silence, then Madame Forsyth told him of Cæsar's
finding Robin in the woods and giving the alarm.
"The child was utterly exhausted. I cannot bear to think of what might
have happened if we--had not been living there. Thank God we found her.
May I summon the girls? I am curious to see more of this rather unusual
young person my niece has attached to my household."
Then the lawyer remembered Beryl's great good fortune and that nothing
had been said concerning that. How happy Robin would be!
In answer to Madame's summons Robin and Beryl came to the library,
nervously sedate in manner and with fingers intertwined in a close grip.
Madame beckoned to them with her jeweled white hand.
"Come to me, Robin. Are you sorry to find that your mysterious friend
by the Rushing Waters--is your aunt?"
Robin advanced slowly, her eyes on her aunt's face.
"No, oh, no! Only--maybe _you're_ sorry about--_me_--being a girl and
such a small one--and lame, too--"
"Oh, my _dear_!" And Madame Forsyth held out her arms impulsively and
Robin, her face aglow, snuggled into them.
Every moment of that day something exciting and significant seemed to
happen. Ever so many people called, and it was fun to see their surprise
at finding Madame home. Aunt Mathilde, (Robin could not make the name
sound natural) upon introduction, had acted as though she almost liked
Susy, and Susy had looked very cunning in the new dress the nurse had
made for her. And she hadn't said Susy would have to go! Then Robin flew
off, the very first moment, with Beryl to find Mrs. Lynch and _hug_ her
over the wonderful fortune and talk about the farm which must be very
near Wassumsic. Then Beryl played for Aunt Mathilde and Aunt Mathilde
had looked as though she "felt funny inside!"
And then Dale had come with Tom Granger, both of them looking haggard
from anxiety and lack of sleep. They came in while Beryl was playing.
Robin was glad of that for it gave her a moment to think what she must
say to Tom Granger in explanation.
She did not need to say anything, however. Tom knew the whole story,
from his father and from Dale. He and Dale had become fast friends.
He caught Robin's hand and pumped her small arm until it ached.
"I had to see you to believe you'd turned up," he laughed. "You
certainly gave us a scare we won't forget in a hurry! But you're a good
little sport and I'm coming around, if I may, to take you for a
ride--before I have to go back to school."
"Well, I never want to go _fast_ again in my life," cried Robin,
coloring under the meaning glance Beryl shot at her.
Dale greeted her more shyly, and because Madame Forsyth and Cornelius
Allendyce were talking to Tom, and Beryl had eyes and ears only for the
nice-looking lad, no one overheard what passed between them.
"Miss Robin, I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened
to you! You should not have taken such a risk--just for my model."
Robin looked at Dale with shining eyes. Would she tell him of her
"pretend?"
"_You_ saved _my_ life once," she exclaimed, impulsively.
"_I_ did!"
"Yes--a long time ago. I was hunting in a little park in New York for
my doll that I'd left there and you found me, crying. And you took me
home--to Patchin Place. I guess maybe you forgot, because you were big
and I was a little bit of a thing!"
Dale stared at her for a moment, then he laughed.
"Why, of _course_--I remember now. You _were_ a little bit of a thing,
with blue eyes and a blue tam. You asked me what a Ma was! Yes, I'd
clean forgotten." He sobered suddenly, and Robin knew it was because he
remembered _why_ he had forgotten. His father had been hurt that
evening.
He looked very big now and very much grown up and Robin wondered, with a
wild confusion sending her blood tingling to her face, would he remember
that she had kissed him and called him her Prince? She watched him,
trembling. But no, he did not remember!
"Well, you've more than repaid me for _that_ little thing," he said.
"Someone else would have found you if I hadn't. And please promise, Miss
Robin, you won't take any more chances for me!"
So Robin locked her precious "pretend" away in her heart--not to be
forgotten, but to be enjoyed, as a big-little girl enjoys taking out
childish toys or dolls or fancies, dusting them carefully, caressing
them tenderly, putting them back reverently--and feeling tremendously
grown-up!
* * * * *
A silvery, shimmery young moon shone down upon two heads close together
at a wide-open window. The one was dark and the other red. And the same
young moon audaciously winked at the whispered confidences exchanged in
the brooding quiet of the night.
"Oh, Robin, doesn't it seem an _age_ since you went off to
Granger's?----So much has happened. I don't feel like the same
girl----Tom Granger's awfully nice looking----his eyes are _blue_,
Robin----oh, I won't let myself _think_ of going to New York until
Mom and Pop are settled somewhere away from the Mills----Robin, you're
so _quiet_----I should think you'd be bursting--"
"I'm glad my aunt was nice to Susy and your mother and--Dale. Beryl,
she's going to make Norris take that invention----"
"Well, I never dreamed that old toy really amounted to anything--"
"---- ---- ---- ----"
"Beryl, don't you love the stars? _You're_ quiet now----"
Beryl giggled.
"Robin--I just remembered! Do you realize we gave our--Queen--_her own
book for Christmas_?"
"Beryl, as _sure_ as anything! Oh, how funny!"
EPILOGUE
A STORY AFTER THE STORY
In a hammock hung between two leafing apple trees, a woman lay, so very
still that she seemed sleeping. A fitful breeze stirred the pale foliage
over her head, now and then showering her with pink petals from the
lingering blossoms; from beneath her rose the damp sweet fragrance of
soft earth and green grass, nearby a meadow-lark sang plaintively;
somewhere a robin called arrogantly to his mate in the nest; from the
valley, stretching below the sloping orchard, a violet mist lifted.
A tender smile played over the lips of the reclining woman and her eyes
stared through the lacy canopy of green into the blue sky, where fleecy
clouds sailed off to the west and south.
A lingering echo went singing through her heart. "It is all yours, Moira
Lynch! It is all yours!" The beauty around her--the promise of spring,
the green of orchard and meadow and distant hill, the rest, the
contentment--the happiness, and oh, most precious, the fulfilment.
There was never a day now, in Mother Moira's life, so busy that she
could not snatch a moment to go over, in reverent appreciation, the
blessings that were hers. And no longer were her dreams--for nothing
could change the dreaming heart of the little woman--for herself or
even for her big Danny; they were for her fine lad, a man now, and
Beryl, working so earnestly for her ambition, and little Robin, who
would always _be_ little Robin, and the imp of a Susy, ruddy cheeked and
happy-hearted.
How long, long ago seemed those days when, a slip of a girl, she had
dreamed on that other hillside of a future that would be hers; how
dazzling had been the pictures she had fancied; how much she had dared
to ask. In her youthful bravado she had laughed at Destiny and had made
so bold as to declare Destiny might even then be weaving a bit of gold
into the drab fabric of her life.
(Faith, was not little Robin her bit of gold? Had not the wonderful
change begun in their lives after little Robin came to the Manor?)
Five years had passed, since she and her big Danny had moved from the
village to the little farm that was "just around the corner." During
them she and big Danny had been alone a great deal of the time,
excepting for little Susy; for Dale and Beryl, after settling them
snugly in the old-fashioned farmhouse, (painted as white as white with a
new barn for the gentle-eyed cow, and a pen for the pigs, and a trim
little run-way for the chickens) had gone away, Dale to an engineering
college, Beryl to live with Miss Allendyce and take her precious violin
lessons, and lessons in languages and science. But Mother Moira was
never lonesome, for mere miles could not separate a heart like hers
from those she loved!
There had been significant changes in the village for her to watch
develop. The old Mill cottages had been torn down and across the river
had been built a cluster of white houses, each with its own yard "going
right around it," and trees and a bit of garden. There was a new school
house, too, and a new corps of teachers, and a hospital and a library.
Robin and her aunt had opened this only a month before.
And the House of Laughter had been enlarged to meet the increasing
demands upon it; there were rooms for the girls' clubs and the boys'
clubs, and a billiard room and a bowling alley, and an athletic field
with a basketball court and a baseball diamond.
(Sir Galahad in his scarlet coat still hung over the mantel which
Williams had built. Robin would not let anyone change that.)
Mrs. Riley lived in the upper floor of the House of Laughter and took
care of it.
The Manor car, with Madame Forsyth, passed often now through the streets
of the village and from it Madame nodded pleasantly to this person and
that, stopping sometimes to ask one Mill mother concerning her sick
child, another of her husband--and another whether she had finished the
knit bed-spread upon which Madame had found her working one afternoon
when she had called. Madame had herself regularly visited the new Mill
houses during the process of construction and took delight in dropping
in upon the newly organized school while classes were in session.
"I'll be the same proud, overbearing old lady," she had told her lawyer,
but she had been mistaken--she could never be quite that again, for she
had found too much pure delight in doing the little things Robin quite
artlessly suggested--little things which had not been easy at first and
which had seemed to demand too great a sacrifice of her pride.
The passing of time for the three at the Manor, Madame, Mrs. Budge and
Harkness, was marked, Mother Lynch well knew, by Robin's coming and
going. For, when her Jimmie had returned from southern seas, Robin had
insisted upon going straight to him, and it was not until her aunt had
laid aside the last shred of her old prejudice and invited Robin's
father to the Manor for a long visit that Robin had consented to look
upon the Manor as her "home," though, even then, she steadfastly
asserted "part" of her time must be spent with Jimmie.
While at the Manor James Forsyth had painted his "Wood Sprite," which
won for him quick and wide recognition, and ever afterward Robin and
Madame Forsyth referred to it as "our picture."
No, Mother Moira was never lonesome.
A gay voice roused her now from her happy reverie, footsteps rustled the
grass, cool hands, with a touch as light as the blowing petals, closed
over her eyes.
"Dreaming again, little Mom? You're incurable!" And Beryl, with a laugh,
dropped upon the ground close to the hammock, one hand closing over her
mother's.
"It's a bit of a cat-nap I'm stealing," fibbed Mother Moira, blushing
like a girl. Her eyes lingered adoringly on the glowing, flushed face
close to hers. "Where have you been, Beryl?"
"Susy coaxed me off to her fairy spring. It's really a lovely little
nook she's found and she's made a doll's house in the hollow of an old
tree. She's a funny little thing--almost elfin, isn't she? Are you sure
she isn't too much trouble for you and Dad, Mother?"
"Trouble? Bless the little heart of the colleen, it's something
happening every minute for it's an imp of mischief she is, but, Beryl, I
like it. It keeps my own heart young."
"As though your heart would ever grow old! You're like Robin. Oh,
mother, you can't _know_ how lonesome I've been over there in Milan for
the sight of you and this little place. I think my soul, the one poor
dear Jacques Henri tried to find in me and didn't--wakened one night
when I actually cried myself to sleep just longing to feel your arms
around me! Oh, when one has a mother and a home like mine to want to
come to, it ought to be _easy_ to keep beautiful inside, the way the
dear man said!" And Beryl, staring thoughtfully out over the valley,
did not see the glow that transformed her mother's face.
A shrill whistle from the Mills echoed and reechoed through the valley.
Beryl turned her head suddenly and laid her cheek against the palm of
her mother's hand.
"Mother, I saw a lot of Tom Granger when I was in Paris."
Mother Moira started ever so slightly, with the barest twitching of the
hand Beryl's cheek touched.
"He was very nice to me. Mother, are he and--and Robin--awfully good
friends?"
"What's in your heart, my girl?"
"Mom, couldn't Robin marry almost _anybody_? She's such a dear and she's
so rich and she's travelled around so much."
"Why, bless the heart of her, she's nothing but a child!"
"Mother!" Beryl's voice rang impatiently. "We'll just _never_ grow up in
your eyes! Why, Robin's twenty. Well, I should think _anyone'd_ like Tom
Granger."
"Oh, my dear!" And Mother Moira, reading the girl's heart with her wise
mother-eyes, gave a tiny sigh. Must the shadow of a heartache touch the
splendid friendship between these two, Beryl and Robin?
The thought lingered with her while she watched the girls come hand in
hand out to the orchard from the drive where Robin had left her
roadster. Beryl had only been home for three days and Robin came out to
the farm at every opportunity.
Her girls--her tall, handsome Beryl with the strong shoulders and the
free swing of her, and little Robin, with her deep blue eyes and her
tender lips and her alive hair, and the little limp that gave her walk
the appearance of eagerness.
There was still so much to talk about that the two girls lingered under
the trees while Mother Moira swung gently and listened and watched the
dear young faces. Beryl had been the guest for a weekend at a duke's
house; Robin had spent a month in the Canadian Rockies with her Jimmie;
Dale had brought home all sorts of tales of adventures from an
expedition he had made with an engineering gang into the fastnesses of
South America, and Beryl had been asked to tour in the fall with the
Cincinnati Symphony and was going to accept. Their chatter came back
then to Wassumsic and the new hospital and the library and the new
teachers, who were Smith College graduates, and Sophie Mack who had
started a Girl Scout troop, and the new athletic field at the House of
Laughter.
"Bless me, it's forgetting the supper I am, and Dale coming!" cried
Mother Moira, springing to quick life.
"And Dale has a wonderful secret to tell, too," laughed Robin, her eyes
shining.
Beryl looked at her friend curiously--Robin had the "all-tight-inside"
look that Beryl remembered from the old days at the Manor.
"Do you know the secret?" she asked.
Robin's face flushed rose-red. "Y-yes. But I promised Dale I wouldn't
tell. We both want to see your mother's face--when she hears it."
"Well, I think you're mean to have a secret with Dale that _I_ don't
know!" cried Beryl, with real indignation. "Is it something that's going
to make Mom lots happier?"
"I--hope--so!" And to hide the tell-tale rose on her face Robin threw
her arms around Mother Moira and kissed her.
"Faith, is it any happier I could be without my heart just breaking?"
Dale came and they all, big Danny in his wheel chair, ate supper on the
broad porch where they could enjoy the sunset. Beryl watched her brother
with admiring eyes--he had grown so strong and big and good-looking, his
nice-fitting clothes set off his broad shoulders so well, his voice had
such a ring of confidence.
"I've been offered the management of the Forsyth Mills," he announced
suddenly.
Then _that_ was the secret!
"Really, truly?" exclaimed Beryl.
"And will ye take it, my boy?" asked big Danny, a note of pride
deepening his voice.
"My boy a manager!" trilled Mother Moira.
"Yes. I'll take it. I made one condition with Madame Forsyth--and she
granted it." And Dale flashed a look across to Robin. Everyone followed
his glance and everyone read the truth in Robin's face.
"Robin Forsyth--and you never breathed a _word_!" cried Beryl, not
knowing for the moment whether to give way to great joy or indignation
that her friend had not confided in her.
With a quick little motion, Robin had slipped to Mother Lynch's chair
and, kneeling beside it, she buried her face against the woman's heart.
"I didn't know--myself," came in muffled tones from the embrace.
"Are you happy, mother?" asked Dale, boyishly.
"Ah, I did not know I could be happier--but, I am!" And Mother Moira
smiled through the tears that brimmed in her eyes.
Beryl, staring at her mother and brother and her friend, suddenly gave
voice to a thought that had come with such significance as to sweep away
her girlish reserve.
"Then it _isn't_ Tom Granger at all! You don't care a _bit_ about him?"
Robin's face lifted. "About Tom? Oh, goodness me, no. Why, he isn't
worth Dale's little _finger_--Beryl Lynch, why do you ask me that?"
"Oh--nothing. Really, truly--" And Beryl escaped into the house.
* * * * *
Robin drove Dale back to the village. At the turn of the road near the
House of Laughter she stopped the car that they might enjoy for a moment
the twilight glow of the valley. Lights twinkled from the Mill houses
across the river. From the House of Laughter came the sound of singing.
A young crescent of a moon shone silvery against a purple blue sky.
"Little Red-Robin," cried Dale, suddenly, "Are you very sure?"
"Sure--of what?" Robin asked in a voice that trembled in spite of her.
"Someday you will be a rich girl. I am a--working-man. What will the
world say? They may laugh at you!"
Robin's chin lifted. Had she ever reckoned her gifts in dollars and
cents?
"But you're my Prince!" she protested, proudly. "Don't you remember?
That night, a long, long time ago, when you took me home, I called
you--my Prince. You said, then, you couldn't stay with me--that I'd have
to find you. Well," her voice dropped to a whisper, "I have."
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"The Books You Like to Read at the Price You Like to Pay"
THERE ARE TWO SIDES TO EVERYTHING--
--including the wrapper which covers every Grosset & Dunlap book. When
you feel in the mood for a good romance, refer to the carefully selected
list of modern fiction comprising most of the successes by prominent
writers of the day which is printed on the back of every Grosset &
Dunlap book wrapper.
You will find more than five hundred titles to choose from--books for
every mood and every taste and every pocketbook.
_Don't forget the other side, but in case the wrapper is lost, write to
the publishers for a complete catalog._
_There is a Grosset & Dunlap Book for every mood and for every taste_
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JANE ABBOTT'S STORIES FOR GIRLS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
Mrs. Abbott holds a unique place among the writers of fiction for young
girls. Her charming stories possess those same qualities of optimism and
high ideals for humanity that made the books of Louisa May Alcott so
popular. She never fails to create an atmosphere of happiness and the
spirit of Youth and Spring.
RED ROBIN
In Robin Forsyth Mrs. Abbott has added a new and charming member to
the happy collection of young girls who have enlivened the pages of
her stories.
APRILLY
A charming story of a young girl and of the adventures which lead her
to her goal of happiness. The book is filled with that joyous spirit
of youth and spring that the title suggests.
HIGHACRES
A school story for girls full of vitality and enthusiasm. There is a
real plot and the girls introduced are sure to be interesting to the
reader.
KEINETH
Keineth is a life creation--within its covers the actual spirit of
youth. The book is of special interest to girls, but when a grown-up
gets hold of it there follows a one-session under the reading lamp
with "finis" at the end.
LARKSPUR
Especially interesting to any Girl Scout because it is the story of a
Girl Scout who is poor and has to help her mother.
HAPPY HOUSE
The delightful story of two American girls, Ann and Nancy. They heal
the old family quarrel and the old homestead becomes a happy house.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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THE NOVELS OF TEMPLE BAILEY
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
THE BLUE WINDOW
The heroine, Hildegarde, finds herself transplanted from the middle
western farm to the gay social whirl of the East. She is almost swept
off her feet, but in the end she proves true blue.
PEACOCK FEATHERS
The eternal conflict between wealth and love. Jerry, the idealist who
is poor, loves Mimi, a beautiful, spoiled society girl.
THE DIM LANTERN
The romance of little Jane Barnes who is loved by two men.
THE GAY COCKADE
Unusual short stories where Miss Bailey shows her keen knowledge of
character and environment, and how romance comes to different people.
THE TRUMPETER SWAN
Randy Paine comes back from France to the monotony of every-day
affairs. But the girl he loves shows him the beauty in the common
place.
THE TIN SOLDIER
A man who wishes to serve his country, but is bound by a tie he cannot
in honor break--that's Derry. A girl who loves him, shares his
humiliation and helps him to win--that's Jean. Their love is the
story.
MISTRESS ANNE
A girl in Maryland teaches school, and believes that work is worthy
service. Two men come to the little community; one is weak, the other
strong, and both need Anne.
CONTRARY MARY
An old-fashioned love story that is nevertheless modern.
GLORY OF YOUTH
A novel that deals with a question, old and yet ever new--how far
should an engagement of marriage bind two persons who discover they no
longer love.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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MARGARET PEDLER'S NOVELS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
TO-MORROW'S TANGLE
The game of love is fraught with danger. To win in the finest sense,
it must be played fairly.
RED ASHES
A gripping story of a doctor who failed in a crucial operation--and
had only himself to blame. Could the woman he loved forgive him?
THE BARBARIAN LOVER
A love story based on the creed that the only important things
between birth and death are the courage to face life and the love to
sweeten it.
THE MOON OUT OF REACH
Nan Davenant's problem is one that many a girl has faced--her own
happiness or her father's bond.
THE HOUSE OF DREAMS-COME-TRUE
How a man and a woman fulfilled a Gypsy's strange prophecy.
THE HERMIT OF FAR END
How love made its way into a walled-in house and a walled-in heart.
THE LAMP OF FATE
The story of a woman who tried to take all and give nothing.
THE SPLENDID FOLLY
Do you believe that husbands and wives should have no secrets from
each other?
THE VISION OF DESIRE
An absorbing romance written with all that sense of feminine tenderness
that has given the novels of Margaret Pedler their universal appeal.
WAVES OF DESTINY
Each of these stories has the sharp impact of an emotional crisis--the
compressed quality of one of Margaret Pedler's widely popular novels.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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THE NOVELS OF GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
A NEW NAME
ARIEL CUSTER
BEST MAN, THE
CITY OF FIRE, THE
CLOUDY JEWEL
DAWN OF THE MORNING
ENCHANTED BARN, THE
EXIT BETTY
FINDING OF JASPER HOLT, THE
GIRL FROM MONTANA, THE
LO, MICHAEL!
MAN OF THE DESERT, THE
MARCIA SCHUYLER
MIRANDA
MYSTERY OF MARY, THE
NOT UNDER THE LAW
PHOEBE DEANE
RE-CREATIONS
RED SIGNAL, THE
SEARCH, THE
STORY OF A WHIM, THE
TOMORROW ABOUT THIS TIME
TRYST, THE
VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, A
WITNESS, THE
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
THE MIDLANDER
THE FASCINATING STRANGER
GENTLE JULIA
ALICE ADAMS
RAMSEY MILHOLLAND
THE GUEST OF QUESNAY
THE TWO VAN REVELS
THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS
MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE
SEVENTEEN
PENROD
PENROD AND SAM
THE TURMOIL
THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA
THE FLIRT
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
SISTERS. Frontispiece by Frank Street.
The California Redwoods furnish the background for this beautiful
story of sisterly devotion and sacrifice.
JOSSELYN'S WIFE. Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.
The story of a beautiful woman who fought a bitter fight for happiness
and love.
MARTIE, THE UNCONQUERED. Illustrated by Charles E. Chambers.
The triumph of a dauntless spirit over adverse conditions.
THE HEART OF RACHAEL. Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.
An interesting story of divorce and the problems that come with a
second marriage.
THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE. Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.
A sympathetic portrayal of the quest of a normal girl, obscure and
lonely, for the happiness of life.
SATURDAY'S CHILD. Frontispiece by E. Graham Cootes.
Can a girl, born in rather sordid conditions, lift herself through
sheer determination to the better things for which her soul hungered?
MOTHER. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
A story of the big mother heart that beats in the background of
every girl's life, and some dreams which come true.
_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.
THE KEEPER OF THE BEES
A gripping human novel everyone in your family will want to read.
THE WHITE FLAG
How a young girl, singlehanded, fought against the power of the
Morelands who held the town of Ashwater in their grip.
HER FATHER'S DAUGHTER
The story of such a healthy, level-headed, balanced young woman
that it's a delightful experience to know her.
A DAUGHTER OF THE LAND
In which Kate Bates fights for her freedom against long odds,
renouncing the easy path of luxury.
FRECKLES
A story of love in the limberlost that leaves a warm feeling about
the heart.
A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST
The sheer beauty of a girl's soul and the rich beauties of the
out-of-doors are in the pages of this book.
THE HARVESTER
The romance of a strong man and of Nature's fields and woods.
LADDIE
Full of the charm of this author's "wild woods magic."
AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW
A story of friendship and love out-of-doors.
MICHAEL O'HALLORAN
A wholesome, humorous, tender love story.
THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL
The love idyl of the Cardinal and his mate, told with rare delicacy
and humor.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD'S STORIES OF ADVENTURE
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list
THE ANCIENT HIGHWAY
A GENTLEMAN OF COURAGE
THE ALASKAN
THE COUNTRY BEYOND
THE FLAMING FOREST
THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN
THE RIVER'S END
THE GOLDEN SNARE
NOMADS OF THE NORTH
KAZAN
BAREE, SON OF KAZAN
THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM
THE DANGER TRAIL
THE HUNTED WOMAN
THE FLOWER OF THE NORTH
THE GRIZZLY KING
ISOBEL
THE WOLF HUNTERS
THE GOLD HUNTERS
THE COURAGE OF MARGE O'DOONE
BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY
GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK
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Transcriber's Notes
1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards.
2. The unusual long dash construction "---- ---- ---- ----" just
before the Epilogue was retained as in the original.