CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

THE UNEXPECTED GUEST

Dixie, a mixing-spoon in her hand, and Carol, still holding the flowers, darted to the open door and peered up the trail that led toward the highway.

Ken had placed the pail of milk on the ground and was racing toward the newcomer, shouting his joy. Jimmy, not to be outdone, was hopping up and down, uttering shrill cries of glee, though he had not the least idea who might be coming.

Miss Bayley stood by the table, her hand pressed to her heart. All day there had been within her a prophetic feeling of some joy in store for her. She listened breathlessly until she heard the name that Dixie announced. “It’s Mr. Edrington, as sure as anything!” she called in delight. Although the young engineer was Ken’s particular friend, the other three Martins loved him dearly.

The young man threw his knapsack to the ground and held out both arms to receive all four of them. Even Dixie, unconscious of the mixing-spoon that she held, ran down the trail to meet him. The young teacher alone stayed within the cabin.

“Oh-ee, Uncle Ed, but we’re glad you’ve come home,” Carol said. That was the name the young man had suggested that they call him.

“Home,” he thought. “What a wonderful word that is!” He had never really had a home, for, although his aunt had seemed to care for him, she had been too nervous to have children around, and so he had been sent to a military academy, and from then, until he became a full-fledged engineer, nine months of every year he had been in a school of some sort, and even the three months of vacation had been spent in hotels at fashionable resorts. This log cabin in the Nevada mountains had been more of a home than he had ever before known.

“Where’s Miss Bayley?” Carol asked, looking back at the open door in surprise. “Why didn’t she come out?”

The girl-teacher heard. She couldn’t have explained to herself why she had remained in hiding when she so longed to greet her good friend.

“Here I am,” she called gayly, appearing at that moment on the porch. With a glad exclamation the young engineer leaped forward, both hands outstretched. “Josephine,” he said in a low voice, “have you decided? Did you miss me?”

Miss Bayley had become mistress of her emotions. “Of course we all missed you,” she said, looking frankly into the fine, gray eyes that told her so much. Then she added, turning to the older Martin girl, “Dear, hadn’t we better have supper now?” Then, to the younger, “You see, Carol, I did well to set out a sixth plate.”

The young man smiled as he followed the young woman indoors, and began to wash at the kitchen pump, as he had been wont to do in the days when he was one of the family, for, try as she might to appear indifferent, Josephine Bayley’s manner and expression had assured him that his love was returned.

Such a merry supper followed. Mr. Edrington had many an adventure to relate. He had met interesting and queer characters in the Rockies, where he had been inspecting the putting-through of a tunnel.

The meal was half over when Dixie suddenly thought of something. “Mr. Edrington,” she exclaimed, “there was a very fine-looking old lady on the stage-coach to-night. I forgot to mention, it. Your coming sort of drove all my other thoughts away. Do you think that maybe it might be your aunt?”

To the surprise of the two older Martin children, the young man beamed happily upon them. “I hope it is!” he declared. Then, reaching out his strong brown hand, he placed it on the slender white one that was lying on the table near him. “If it is my aunt, then without delay I shall be able to introduce to her my future wife, Josephine Bayley.”

Children take wonderful things quite as a matter of course. Why not, since they can believe in fairies?

“Oh! Oh! I am so glad! Then we can call our dear teacher Aunt Josephine, can’t we?” eagerly asked glowing-eyed Dixie.

That night as the young couple walked up the cañon road together, Frederick Edrington for the first time told of the fortune that his father had left him.

“I am glad that I have it, for your sake,” he said to the girl at his side, “for it will enable me to give you many luxuries. Whatever things you have desired through the years, now you shall have.”

“Thank you Frederick,” the girl replied, realizing fully for the first time that her fiancé believed her to be a poor young person who had to work for a living. As they passed the inn, they could look into the brightly-lighted parlor. There they saw several people, but only one was near enough to the window to be recognized.

“It is my aunt,” the young man said, “and I suspect that Marlita Arden is with her.”

At the doorstep of the cabin they paused. The young man held out his hand. “Josephine,” he said, “will you go with me in the morning to the inn, that I may introduce to my aunt and her friends the sweetest little woman in the world, who is soon to be my wife?”

The girl-teacher could not have told why she replied, “But, Frederick, your aunt will be so disappointed because you are to marry some one who does not belong to her world, some one who is obscure and—”

Earnestly the young man interrupted: “It is for me to say what manner of maid I shall marry; but, dear, if you would rather not go,—if it will place you in an unpleasant position,—I will not ask you to accompany me. I will go alone.”

The girl looked up at him radiantly, and there was an amused expression in her lovely eyes that he could not understand.

“I shall be glad to go, Frederick,” she said. “I’ll be ready early. Good-night.”