CHAPTER XVIII
A HOME-COMING
“You are really, without exception, the worst-behaved children I have ever heard of in my life. I cannot think of any punishment severe enough for what you deserve.”
Grandma spoke in a tone of awful sternness, and her expression was, if possible, even sterner than her voice. The four little culprits stood before her in a row, and trembled, but nobody could think of anything to say. It was half-past three, and the children had reached home five minutes earlier, and been sent straight up to Grandma’s room by Mary, in obedience to the orders she had received. It was Mary who had met the party at the station, and on the way home had told them of the excitement and consternation their disappearance had caused.
“I never saw the old lady so upset before,” she declared. “She most took Bridget’s and my head off, and goodness knows we hadn’t anything to do with it. She read that letter you left on the bureau, and she thought we’d told you the news about the stepmother, that was to be kept a secret till your pa came home. She telegraphed to Miss Kate to come home, and she was ’most wild with fright about you, till that lady’s message came.”
It was all very dreadful, and yet there was a certain thrill in the knowledge that Grandma had really been worried about them.
“I didn’t think she’d care much what became of us,” Dulcie had whispered to Daisy, and Daisy had answered, with her usual cheerfulness:
“It’s rather nice to know she does care just a little bit, after all.”
And now they were facing Grandma’s wrath, and awaiting the punishment which they felt sure was to follow.
“I cannot conceive how such an absurd idea ever entered any of your heads,” Mrs. Winslow went on, eyeing them over her spectacles. “For children in your position even to contemplate such a plan is outrageous. A Winslow taking a situation like an Irish servant girl. It is horrible!” And the aristocratic old lady actually shuddered.
Dulcie hung her head; her cheeks were crimson.
“It was all my fault,” she said, humbly; “I thought of it first, and the others didn’t want to do it at all.”
“I was quite sure you were the ringleader,” returned Grandma, coldly. “You generally are, where any mischief is concerned. But Daisy and Molly are both old enough to know better. Maud is still too young to be expected to have judgment of any kind.”
It was then that Maud did what Dulcie afterwards described as “a noble thing.” She had been trying to hide behind Daisy, but at Grandma’s last words she suddenly stepped forward and spoke.
“If the others are going to be punished,” she said, in a clear, decided little voice, “I guess you’d better punish me, too. I knew it was naughty to eat cake for breakfast, and I did it even when Daisy told me not to.”
There was a little gasp of admiration from the three older children, and even Grandma’s stern face relaxed into something like a grim smile.
“I am glad to see that you are capable of realizing how naughty you have been,” she said. “I have had a terrible morning, but thank Heaven, my responsibility is nearly at an end. Your father arrives this afternoon, and it will be his duty to decide upon what punishment you are to receive.”
“Grandma,” cried Dulcie, scarcely able to believe her ears, “aren’t you going to punish us, then?”
“Under ordinary circumstances I should certainly punish you all severely,” Mrs. Winslow answered, “but with your father’s return my guardianship over you ceases. I wish I could give him a better account of your behavior during his absence, but perhaps I am getting too old to deal with children. Let us hope that your stepmother may have better success than I have had.”
“I’m very sorry, Grandma,” murmured conscientious Daisy, the tears of mortification starting to her eyes. “We really did want to be good, and we hated being burdens.”
“Well, we won’t say any more about it,” interrupted Grandma, rather hurriedly. “I dare say you have been no worse than the majority of children, except for your absurd behavior of this morning, which is really beyond the comprehension of any sane person. Now go to your room and change your dresses. You none of you look fit to be seen, and I wish you to be on the piazza to greet your father and his wife. I have received another telegram saying they will arrive by the five-ten.”
None of the four had dreamed of getting off so easily, and yet as they climbed the stairs to their own room, they were all very silent.
“It’s rather nice to get back, isn’t it?” remarked Molly, a little unsteadily, glancing about the familiar bedroom, as Dulcie set down the valise and began removing the various articles she had packed so proudly only that morning.
“It seems as if we’d been away for a long time,” said Maud. “I didn’t know one day could be so long. Perhaps it’s because we got up so early. I think I’m getting a little sleepy.”
“Lie down and rest,” Daisy suggested. “It isn’t time to dress yet, and perhaps you can get a little nap.”
Maud promptly curled herself up on the bed she and Molly shared, and in five minutes had fallen fast asleep. But none of the others felt at all inclined to follow her example. They were all far too much excited to sleep. They sat close together, and talked in low, subdued voices, so as not to disturb Maud.
“There’s one thing we can be thankful for,” said Daisy. “We’ve found out that stepmothers aren’t all bad, and that’s a great relief. I don’t believe Mrs. Thorne ever thought Barbara a burden.”
“No, I don’t believe she did,” Dulcie agreed, “but then Barbara was only three when Mrs. Thorne married her father, and you can’t help loving a cunning little girl of three, but it will be quite different with us. Grandma will be sure to tell her how horrid we are, and then she’ll begin to hate us.”
“She won’t hate us if she’s anything like Mrs. Thorne,” said Daisy, with conviction. “Anyhow, Papa loves us, and he won’t say we’re horrid. Why shouldn’t she believe him just as well as Grandma?”
“Perhaps he’ll think we’ve grown worse since he went away,” said Dulcie, mournfully, but Daisy refused to listen to any such gloomy possibilities.
[Illustration: “DO WE SAY ‘HOW DO YOU DO, STEPMOTHER?’”--_Page 275._]
“Mrs. Thorne said she was sure Papa wouldn’t marry anybody who wasn’t going to love us,” she maintained, “and I’m not going to worry any more than I can help. Now let’s think about dressing up. I’m going to curl Maud’s hair the way Lizzie used to do it, and Molly must wear her white muslin with pink ribbons.”
As the clock on the stairs struck five, the four little girls, all dressed in their best, stepped out on the piazza, and seated themselves in a solemn row to await the arrival of the station hack. They were all feeling very nervous, even Daisy, and nobody felt much like talking. Grandma was still in her room, and they had the piazza to themselves.
“Shall we have to kiss the stepmother?” Maud inquired, anxiously.
“It will depend on whether she wants to kiss us or not,” answered Dulcie. “We shall kiss Papa first, of course, and then we’ll see what she wants to do.”
“Do we say ‘How do you do, stepmother?’” Maud wanted to know.
Dulcie shook her head.
“I don’t think that would do,” she said, doubtfully. “It doesn’t sound exactly polite.”
“Barbara calls Mrs. Thorne ‘Mamma,’” said Molly. “Do you think she will want us to call her Mamma?”
“I hope not,” said Dulcie, reddening. “I don’t want to call anybody Mamma except our own dear mamma in Heaven.”
“Barbara talked about her first mamma,” Daisy reminded them. “I think we’d better let Papa decide what we are to call her. He’s sure to know what is right,” she finished, with the comforting conviction that Papa always knew best about everything.
Just then the whistle of an approaching train fell upon their ears, and Grandma, in her best black silk, came out onto the piazza.
It was only a quarter of a mile to the station, and in the silence that followed they could hear the stopping of the train, and then the puffing of the engine as it moved on again. Grandma sat in a rocking-chair and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t look in the least excited, not even ruffled. As for the four little girls, their hearts were beating so fast they could scarcely breathe. Half-unconsciously Dulcie slipped her hand into Daisy’s, and held it tight. There followed five minutes of breathless suspense, and then came the sound of approaching wheels. In another moment the station hack had turned in at the gate, and drawn up before the front steps.
“Papa, dear, dear Papa!” In the first joyful moment everything else in the world was forgotten, and four pairs of arms were held out, as four little figures rushed forward to meet the tall, smiling gentleman, who had sprung from the carriage, and was bounding up the steps.
“Well, chicks, here I am!” cried Mr. Winslow, kissing them all round, “glad to see me, eh? Not half as glad as I am to see you all, I’ll be bound. How you have grown, Dulcie. How well you are looking, Daisy. Can these two big girls really be my babies, Molly and Maud? And here’s Grandma, too.” And he released himself from the children’s clinging arms, and went forward to greet his stepmother.
And now there was another joyful cry, but this time it was mingled with astonishment.
“Miss Leslie, oh, Miss Leslie, we’re so glad to see you! We never knew you were coming, too.” And the pretty young lady, who had followed Mr. Winslow up the steps, suddenly found herself being violently hugged by four very excited little girls.
“Where’s Uncle Stephen?” inquired Daisy, who was the first to recover from the surprise. “Didn’t Uncle Stephen come, too?”
Miss Leslie laughed and blushed.
“No, dear,” she said, “he didn’t come this time, but he sent a great deal of love to you all, and hopes to see you when he comes East next winter.”
“But--but, isn’t he going to--aren’t you----” Daisy paused in utter bewilderment. If Miss Leslie were not going to marry Uncle Stephen, then why had she come? And, more astonishing still, where, oh, where was the dreaded stepmother? She glanced in the direction of the hack, in quest of a third occupant, but the only other person to be seen was the driver, who had sprung down from his seat and was lifting out the bags.
In the meantime Maud was giving Miss Leslie an important bit of news.
“We’re making you some wedding presents,” she announced, giving the visitor’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “I won’t tell you what they are, because they’re going to be a surprise.”
Mr. Winslow caught the words, and turned anxiously to his mother.
“What does she mean?” he inquired, sharply. “They haven’t been told, have they?”
“I am sorry to say they have,” Mrs. Winslow answered. “It was not my fault. I have said nothing, in accordance with your request, and neither has Kate. All the trouble has come through that meddlesome gossip, Lizzie. I always told you she was not the proper person to have the care of children, but you would never listen.”
Mr. Winslow looked annoyed, but before he could speak, Molly put into words the question that had been filling all their minds.
“Where is she?” she demanded, looking in astonishment from one face to another.
“Where is who, dear?” Miss Leslie asked, gently.
“Why, the stepmother,” said Molly. “Lizzie said Papa was bringing her home.”
Miss Leslie laughed.
“I am the stepmother,” she said, and stooped to kiss the astonished Molly as she spoke.
* * * * *
It was long past the children’s bedtime, as Grandma had several times reminded them, but somehow nobody had seemed to hear, and at last Grandma had gone indoors, in disgust, leaving the rest of the Winslow family on the piazza. They were a very happy party. Dulcie and Daisy each occupied an arm of their father’s chair, Molly sat on his knee, and Maud was comfortably ensconced in the lap of the “stepmother”!
“It’s been the most wonderful day we ever had in our lives,” said Daisy, with a little sigh of utter content. “It began pretty badly, but the end was beautiful.”
“I shall never, never again try to imitate book people,” declared Dulcie. “Things never happen the way you expect them to. I ought to have found it out the day we tried to find ‘the stolen child,’ but I went right on, and did another silly thing, that was a great deal worse. Oh, Papa dear, are you quite sure you don’t think I ought to be punished? It really was all my fault, you know.”
Mr. Winslow smiled and patted her cheek.
“I think we will let the punishment go this once,” he said, glancing at his wife. “Don’t you agree with me, Florence?”
“I certainly do,” the stepmother answered, heartily. “All is well that ends well, you know, and I don’t believe they will try looking for situations again.”
“No, indeed, we won’t,” promised Dulcie. “Oh, Mamma, if we had only known it was going to be you, we should have been so happy!”
“You don’t think I am going to be a cruel stepmother, then?” Mrs. Winslow said, smiling.
“I don’t believe you could be cruel, even if you tried,” Dulcie declared, and Daisy added, softly:
“We loved you the first time we saw you, and we’ve been loving you ever since. We were so glad when we thought you were going to marry Uncle Stephen, but to have you for our own mamma is the most beautiful thing that could possibly happen.”
There were tears in Mrs. Winslow’s eyes, and she drew Daisy to her side and kissed her.
“You haven’t loved me one bit more than I have loved you,” she said, a little unsteadily. “I have been longing for you all ever since that afternoon last January, and, oh, I do hope God will help me to be a real mother to you.”
They were all silent for a moment after that. It was very beautiful out there in the moonlight, and nobody felt like speaking. At last Molly broke the silence.
“Do you really mean it?” she questioned, anxiously. “You’re not just saying it to be polite, are you?”
“Mean what, dear?” Mrs. Winslow asked.
“That about wanting us ever since last winter?”
“Indeed I do mean it,” her stepmother answered, and there was a ring of sincerity in her voice that banished the children’s last lingering doubt. “I have never wanted anything quite so much in my life. Why, Molly darling, I wanted you even before I ever saw you.”
“Why, then,” cried Dulcie, with sparkling eyes, “it’s all right, children. We know Papa wants us, and if Mamma does, too, why--why, don’t you see--oh, it’s so beautiful! We won’t be burdens or incumbrances any more!”
THE END
_Only Dollie_
By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha Davidson
Square 12mo Cloth
This is a brightly written story of a girl of twelve, who, when the mystery of her birth is solved, like Cinderella, passes from drudgery to better circumstances. There is nothing strained, or unnatural at any point. All descriptions or portrayals of character are life-like, and the book has an indescribable appealing quality which wins sympathy and secures success.
[Illustration]
“It is delightful reading at all times.”--_Cedar Rapids (Ia.) Republican._
“It is well written, the story runs smoothly, the idea is good, and it is handled with ability.”--_Chicago Journal._
_The Little Girl Next Door_
By NINA RHOADES. Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson
A delightful story of true and genuine friendship between an impulsive little girl in a fine New York home and a little blind girl in an apartment next door. The little girl’s determination to cultivate the acquaintance, begun out of the window during a rainy day, triumphs over the barriers of caste, and the little blind girl proves to be in every way a worthy companion. Later a mystery of birth is cleared up, and the little blind girl proves to be of gentle birth as well as of gentle manners.
_Winifred’s Neighbors_
By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson Large 12mo Cloth
Little Winifred’s efforts to find some children of whom she reads in a book lead to the acquaintance of a neighbor of the same name, and this acquaintance proves of the greatest importance to Winifred’s own family. Through it all she is just such a little girl as other girls ought to know, and the story will hold the interest of all ages.
[Illustration]
_The Children on the Top Floor_
By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson
In this book little Winifred Hamilton, the child heroine of “Winifred’s Neighbors,” reappears, living in the second of the four stories of a New York apartment house. On top floor are two very interesting children, Betty, a little older than Winifred, who is now ten, and Jack, a brave little cripple, who is a year younger. In the end comes a glad reunion, and also other good fortune for crippled Jack, and Winifred’s kind little heart has once more indirectly caused great happiness to others.
[Illustration]
_How Barbara Kept Her Promise_
By NINA RHOADES Large 12mo Cloth Illustrated by Bertha Davidson
Two orphan sisters, Barbara, aged twelve, and little Hazel, who is “only eight,” are sent from their early home in London to their mother’s family in New York. Faithful Barbara has promised her father that she will take care of pretty, petted, mischievous Hazel, and how she tries to do this, even in the face of great difficulties, forms the story which has the happy ending which Miss Rhoades wisely gives to all her stories.
_Little Miss Rosamond_
By NINA RHOADES Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson Large 12mo
Rosamond lives in Richmond, Va., with her big brother, who cannot give her all the comfort that she needs in the trying hot weather, and she goes to the seaside cottage of an uncle whose home is in New York. Here she meets Gladys and Joy, so well known in a previous book, “The Little Girl Next Door,” and after some complications are straightened out, bringing Rosamond’s honesty and kindness of heart into prominence, all are made very happy.
[Illustration]
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
“_Brick House Books_”
_By NINA RHOADES._
_Cloth 12mo Illustrated_
Priscilla of the Doll Shop
The “Brick House Books,” as they are called from their well-known cover designs, are eagerly sought by children all over the country. There are three good stories in this book, instead of one, and it is hard to say which little girls, and boys, too, for that matter, will like the best.
[Illustration]
Brave Little Peggy
Peggy comes from California to New Jersey to live with a brother and sister whom she has not known since very early childhood. She is so democratic in her social ideas that many amusing scenes occur, and it is hard for her to understand many things that she must learn. But her good heart carries her through, and her conscientiousness and moral courage win affection and happiness.
The Other Sylvia
Eight-year-old Sylvia learns that girls who are “Kings’ Daughters” pledge themselves to some kind act or service, and that one little girl named Mary has taken it upon herself to be helpful to all the Marys of her acquaintance. This is such an interesting way of doing good that she adopts it in spite of her unusual name, and really finds not only “the other Sylvia,” but great happiness.
[Illustration]
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
DOROTHY BROWN
By NINA RHOADES
Illustrated by Elizabeth Withington Large 12mo
This is considerably longer than the other books by this favorite writer, and with a more elaborate plot, but it has the same winsome quality throughout. It introduces the heroine in New York as a little girl of eight, but soon passes over six years and finds her at a select family boarding school in Connecticut. An important part of the story also takes place at the Profile House in the White Mountains. The charm of school-girl friendship is finely brought out, and the kindness of heart, good sense and good taste which find constant expression in the books by Miss Rhoades do not lack for characters to show these best of qualities by their lives. Other less admirable persons of course appear to furnish the alluring mystery, which is not all cleared up until the very last.
[Illustration]
“There will be no better book than this to put into the hands of a girl in her teens and none that will be better appreciated by her.”--_Kennebec Journal._
MARION’S VACATION
By NINA RHOADES
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson 12mo
This book is for the older girls, Marion being thirteen. She has for ten years enjoyed a luxurious home in New York with the kind lady who feels that the time has now come for this aristocratic though lovable little miss to know her own nearest kindred, who are humble but most excellent farming people in a pretty Vermont village. Thither Marion is sent for a summer, which proves to be a most important one to her in all its lessons.
[Illustration]
“More wholesome reading for half grown girls it would be hard to find; some of the same lessons that proved so helpful in that classic of the last generation ‘An Old Fashioned Girl’ are brought home to the youthful readers of this sweet and sensible story.”--_Milwaukee Free Press._
_For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston
TOP-OF-THE-WORLD STORIES
Translated from the Scandinavian Languages
By EMILIE POULSSON and LAURA POULSSON
Illustrated in two colors by Florence Liley Young
These stories of magic and adventure come from the countries at the “top of the world,” and will transport thither in fancy the children who read this unusual book. They tell of Lapps and reindeer (even a golden-horned reindeer!), of prince and herd-boy, of knights and wolves and trolls, of a boy who could be hungry and merry at the same time--of all these and more besides! Miss Poulsson’s numerous and long visits to Norway, her father’s land, and the fact that she is an experienced writer for children are doubtless the reasons why her translations are sympathetic and skilful, and yet entirely adapted to give wholesome pleasure to the young public that she knows so well.
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“In these stories are the elements of wonder and magic and adventure that furnish the thrill so much appreciated by boys and girls ten or twelve years of age. An aristocratic book--one that every young person will be perpetually proud of.”--_Lookout, Cincinnati, O._
“In this book the children are transported to the land they love best, the land of magic, of the fairies and all kinds of wonderful happenings. It is one of the best fairy story books ever published.”--_Argus-Leader, Sioux Falls, S. D._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers_
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. Boston
YULE-TIDE IN MANY LANDS
BY MARY P. PRINGLE and CLARA A. URANN
Fully illustrated and decorated
12mo Cloth Price, $1.50
The varying forms of Christmas observance at different times and in different lands are entertainingly shown by one trained in choosing and presenting the best to younger readers. The symbolism, good cheer, and sentiment of the grandest of holidays are shown as they appeal in similar fashion to those whose lives seem so widely diverse. The first chapter tells of the Yule-Tide of the Ancients, and the eight succeeding chapters deal respectively with the observance of Christmas and New Year’s, making up the time of “Yule,” or the turning of the sun, in England, Germany, Scandinavia, Russia, France, Italy, Spain, and America. The space devoted to each country has at least one good illustration.
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“The descriptions as presented in this well-prepared volume make interesting reading for all who love to come in loving contact with others in their high and pure enjoyments.”--_Herald-Presbyter, Cincinnati._
“The way Yule-Tide was and is celebrated is told in a simple and instructive way, and the narrative is enriched by appropriate poems and excellent illustrations.”--_Cleveland Plain Dealer._
“It is written for young people and is bound to interest them for the subject is a universal one.”--_American Church Sunday School Magazine._
_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers_
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. Boston
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized or underlined text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.