"Put your head right down on my shoulder and cry if you want to, my
pretty!" said Mother Marshall, pulling her softly over toward her. "You
can't think how good it is to have you here! Father and I were so afraid
you wouldn't come! We thought you mightn't be willing to come so far to
utter strangers!"
So it went on all the way, all of them so happy they didn't quite know
what they were saying.
Then, when they got to the house even Father was so far gone that he
couldn't let them go up-stairs alone. He just had to leave the machine
standing by the kitchen door and carry that little hand-bag up as an
excuse to see how she would like the room.
Bonnie, pulling off her gloves, entered the room when Mother opened the
door. She looked around bewildered a moment, as if she had stepped from
the middle of winter into a summer orchard. Then she cried out with
delight:
"Oh! How perfectly beautiful! You don't mean me to have this lovely
room? It isn't right! A stranger and a pauper!"
"Nothing of the kind!" growled Father, patting her on the shoulder.
"Just a daughter come home!"
Then he beat a hasty retreat to the fireplace and touched a match to the
fire already laid, while Mother, purring like a contented old pussy,
pushed the bewildered girl into the big flowered chair in front of the
fire and began unfastening her coat and taking off her hat, reverently,
half in awe, for she was not used to girl's fixings, and they held
almost as much mystery for her as if she had been a man.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241