when maida turned the bend in the path just before it came out on the little house, she found rosie, laura, arthur, harold and dicky drawn up in a straight soldier-like line.
“we have to report that—” they all chanted in a solemn voice.
“mother is very comfortable and will return to us in a week,” announced the radiant dicky.
“granny flynn has come back,” announced the beaming laura.
“floribel is in the kitchen,” announced the smiling harold.
“zeke is in the garden,” announced the triumphant arthur.
“your father is in the living room waiting for you,” announced the sparkling rosie.
“my father!” maida exclaimed in a happy voice. “my father! oh what a blessing that is!” she dropped her bicycle. “oh rosie, will you put my wheel away for me? i want to see my father so much.” she didn’t wait[pg 245] for rosie’s hearty, “yes, of course, goose!” but raced across the grass.
in a few minutes an unprecedented activity broke out in the little house. down stairs in the living room, mr. westabrook, who had been most of the time glued to the telephone, was still telephoning. up-stairs in the little house, floribel was getting the spare room ready for one guest. up-stairs in the barn, zeke was putting up a cot for another. in the kitchen, rosie was frantically making popovers. between the flower garden and the spare room, laura and maida were swinging like a pair of active pendulums, decorating with flowers. outside on lawn and in vegetable garden, the boys were working frantically putting everything in what rosie called “apple pie order.” everywhere the smaller children, to whom for the moment nobody was paying any attention, were getting in everybody’s way.
about noon the big gray limousine appeared at the end of the trail. zeke hurried down to it. he and botkins lifted out the slight figure lying in the back, bore it up the path to the house and over the stairs to the guest chamber. an excited queue of children—all the young inhabitants of the little house in fact—followed.
[pg 246]
“all right, silva?” maida was enquiring and to silva’s faint “yes,” rosie was saying, “we’re all awfully glad you’re going to be here with us,” and “just as soon as you are well enough, you’ve got to teach us how to make those beautiful baskets,” laura was contributing. the boys didn’t seem to be able to do anything but they were making attempts—highly unsuccessful ones to be sure—to assist the two men.
up-stairs, they left silva alone with the girls. maida immediately took off the long rusty coat that silva was wearing, her worn and stained middy blouse; her ragged skirt; undressed her; put on first one of her own simple white nightgowns and over it her favorite dressing gown of organdie muslin with pink ribbon. laura brought a pair of pink bed shoes; slipped them on silva’s slender feet. rosie contributed a boudoir cap of white lace with pink ribbons which she had managed to fashion in the hour they had waited for silva. and then in answer to the beseeching look in silva’s eyes, rosie brought the cooing little nesta and put her in her sister’s arms.
“my father is going to send for your father, silva,” maida explained. “he is going to ask him to let you and tyma and the baby stay[pg 247] with us. your father will say yes, silva—people always say yes to my father—and then if you like us, we want you to live with us as long as we stay here.”
“only a few weeks longer,” rosie added in a wailing voice, “then school begins.”
silva, only half hearing, was kissing her little sister with violent flurries of kisses. and her eyes were filling with tears. she made no effort to check them because that would have been impossible. finally she put her head down on the arm of her chair and cried. the others kept a frightened silence. rosie, recovering first, noiselessly removed nesta. silva made no attempt to keep her. maida slipped into the bathroom and came back with a wet face cloth and a towel; proceeded to bathe silva’s face. silva submitted meekly. laura disappeared and returned with a bottle of toilet water with which she sprinkled silva.
“oh you are so good to me,” silva said when she could control her voice. “and when i think of how i treated you— i didn’t want to though. i—i had to. but when i’m well, i’ll gladly show you how to make baskets. and i know where the berries grow thickest and biggest ... i’ll take you to all my secret places ... i do thank you! i do! i do! with all my heart!”
