mr. robbins had answered the first letter from delphi, under kit's careful supervision, and the acceptance was couched in language ambiguous enough to please even her.
it aroused no suspicions whatever in the minds of dean peabody or miss daphne. the only question was, who was to meet the child in chicago. the through express would leave him there, and in order to connect with the wisconsin trains it was necessary to make the change over to the northwestern depot.
miss daphne was far more perturbed over it than her brother. one of the latter's favorite mottoes was inscribed in old english lettering over his desk:
"never set in motion forces which
you cannot control."
having set in motion the coming guest, he believed firmly that an unfaltering fate would direct his footsteps safely to delphi. cassius cato peabody had been peculiar all his life. he had been a peculiar boy, unsettled, studious, impractical. miss daphne was his younger sister, and ever since her girlhood had tried to give him all the love and encouragement that others refused. she had trotted after him faithfully and happily on all of his exploring expeditions. perhaps one reason why these had been so successful was because somehow she had always managed to surround him with home comforts, even in the wilds of the upper nile. the dean had had his regular meals and clean changes of clothing in the shadow of nineveh's ruins in far chaldea, just as though he had been in his own domicile.
and perhaps the quaintest thing about it all was that miss daphne herself, no matter on what particular point of the globe she had happened to pitch her tent, had always retained her courage, although she had faced dangers that the average woman would have fled from. perhaps she carried in her heart an unfailing faith that providence could not deny her protection when she was enabling the dean to give the benefit of his great gifts to the world.
their house stood on the same hill as hope college, the highest point in the rising ridge of bluffs along the lake shore at delphi. it was built of dark red brick, a square double edifice, with long french windows and two rotunda shaped wings, somewhat in the french style. a grove of pine trees almost hid it from view on its street side, the stately norway pines that kit always loved. the back of the house looked directly out over the lake, and the land here was frankly left to nature. trees, grass and underbrush rioted at will, until they suddenly ended on the brow of the bluff, where there was a sheer declivity of sand to the beach. looking at it from below, kit afterwards thought it was like a miniature section of the yosemite, the sand had hardened into such fantastic shapes, and the strata in places was so plainly visible.
mrs. robbins' telegram arrived the night before kit herself. it was brief and non-committal.
"kit arrives union station, chicago, thursday, 10:22 a.m."
"kit," repeated the dean. "humph! nickname. superfluous and derogatory."
miss daphne took the telegram from his desk with a little smile that was almost tremulous with excitement.
"it's probably the diminutive for christopher, brother," she said. "i think it's a nice name. i always liked the legend of st. christopher. somebody'll have to meet him down in chicago. he might lose his head and take the wrong train."
"he's about fourteen, isn't he? old enough to change from one train to another, and use his tongue if he's in doubt. when i was fourteen, daphne, i was earning my own living working on a farm, summers, and going to a school in the winter time where we all had to work for our board. never hurt us a bit. the greatest trait of character you can inculcate in a child is self-reliance."
miss daphne had a little way of appearing to listen while her brother expatiated on any of his favorite topics. it had grown to be a loving habit with her, and she had a way of answering absently.
"yes, dear, i'm quite sure of it," which always satisfied him that he had her attention. but now, she sat looking out the window and thinking, a perplexed expression on her face. it had not altogether been her desire that the coming child should be a boy, although not one word had she breathed of this to dean peabody. their lives had run in tranquil grooves. everything about their daily routine was as st. paul suggested, "decently and in order."
the determination to take one of the greenacre brood had been a sudden one. the dean had been reading somebody's theory about the obligations of age to youth.
"daphne, my dear," he had remarked one evening, as the two sat quietly in the old library, "we have been leading very narrow, selfish lives, and we will suffer for it as we grow older. we have shut ourselves away from youth. i am seventy-four now, and what heritage am i leaving to the world beyond a few books of reference, and my collections? what i should do is to take some child, still in the impressionable stage, and impart to it all i know."
miss daphne glanced up with a little amused twinkle in her eyes.
"but, brother, what about the child? surely you would require an exceptional child for such an experiment. one who would have the mentality to grasp all that you were trying to impart to it."
the dean cogitated over this, pursing his lips and tapping his knuckles with his rimless eye-glasses.
"possibly," he granted, "and yet, daphne, surely there would be far more credit attached to planting the seed of knowledge where it needed much cultivating. it has surprised and amazed me up at the college to find that usually the children who appreciate an education are the farmer boys, and very often the foreign element."
miss daphne rocked to and fro gently. she knew her brother well enough to understand that this had become a fixed idea with him, and the easiest way out was to find him an impressionable child. and then, it happened that she thought of elizabeth ann robbins, their niece, and all her nestful of young mouths to be satisfied with life's gifts and privileges. she remembered having one letter after the breaking up of the home on long island. this had told them of mr. robbins' illness and breakdown. but with the optimism that was inherent in every one of the family, there had been no appeal for aid or cry of despondency over the sudden change in their fortunes.
several times the dean had written to mr. robbins but always on archaeological topics. some little point of controversy upon which he desired confirmation. somehow material needs never seemed to suggest themselves to the dean. blessed with absolute self-reliance from his boyhood, he had educated and made a success of himself, and he could not understand how any one could falter or repine in the race. particularly, if nature had granted them any precious ratio of peabody blood.
"do you know, brother," began miss daphne, in the bright, abrupt little way she had, "i think it would be the right thing if we took one of the robbins' children. there are four or five of them——"
"boys or girls?" interrupted the dean.
"well, now i'm not quite sure, but if my memory serves me, i think there's a boy amongst them. i know the eldest girl is named jean daphne, because i've always sent her a silver spoon on her birthday since she was born. they're all of them over ten, i am sure. why don't you just write to jerrold and make known your willingness? i am sure they would take it in the spirit in which it was offered."
