Chapter 11

WEDNESDAY.

"Nennybody mustn't look out the windows into the yard today, not ever, ever at all," insisted Berta at the breakfast table next morning.

"Not ever, ever at all," echoed Beth.

"No, indeed! Just let me hear that anyone has tried to find out what our surprise is." And the Doctor looked with a terrible frown at Wilhelmina and Mary, who declared that their feelings were very much hurt, because they were not let into the secret. "I shall depend on you, Dick, to let me know whether anyone disobeys my orders."

"All right, Uncle Frank, I'll 'member every single one I see peeking out the windows."

A short time later, Mary and Wilhelmina dropped the blanket they were folding and stared at each other.

"Forever more! What in the world is that? It gives me the creeps." Wilhelmina went to the window and, hidden by the curtains, peered down into the yard. From just below rose such a squeaking and a scraping as would make one's blood run cold.

"Ugh!" Mary clapped her hands to her ears. "It makes the shivers run up and down my spine!" She followed Wilhelmina to the window, and for some minutes the two watched the little ones hard at work with their hoes on patches of earth which the rain had washed out on the walk. Then they dodged back; for Berta, pushing back her big hat, stopped work to look carefully at each window on that side of the house. The two girls smiled at her gleeful, "Nennybody isn't looking, chilluns. They can't ever guess _this_ s'prise, not ever, ever at all." And she turned to brush up the loose earth on her little spade which she then emptied into the waiting wheelbarrow.

All in the house chuckled behind the window curtains or blinds which hid them from Berta's sharp eyes. Squeak! Scrape! Screech! Dick and Beth used their little brooms and spades and added to the pile of earth in the wheelbarrow, while Jack scratched away at his special patch. Those indoors went back to their work, glad that the little ones were happy at last; but it was not long before frantic cries drew them again to the windows to see Jack making off down the walk with the wheelbarrow, out of which a steady stream of earth was pouring. After he had been stopped and the earth brushed up, Berta decided that it was too warm to work any longer in the sun.

"Let's rake leaves. It's cool under the trees."

"That's jes' 'zactly what we'll do, Dick." Beth tossed off her hat and caught up her rake.

And how they raked! Not only leaves, but grass, roots and all, came up.

"By the time they finish, the yard will look as though a cyclone had struck it," laughed Wilhelmina.

"That doesn't matter one bit just so they are happy and out of mischief. Wasn't Uncle wonderful to think of such a thing for them to do?"

"I'm only afraid it's too good to last very long, Mary. They will soon get tired of such hard work."

Wilhelmina was right. After a few minutes under the trees, Dick and Berta threw down their rakes and went to sweep cobwebs from the railing of the porch; but Beth's fear of spiders kept her at the leaves, and she coaxed Jack to stay with her. At the end of a half hour, Wilhelmina again went to the window. "Didn't I tell you, Mary? Not one of them in sight. They are up to some mischief, mark my words. They are too quiet for any good to come of it."

"But what mischief can they possibly get into in the yard, Wilhelmina? Tom always closes the barn doors when he leaves it, and there is no way for them to hurt themselves. They have just found something to do around at the back of the house."

In one sense, Mary was right. The little ones had found something to do. But if she had known what that something was, she would not have gone about her work with such a light heart. She had many, many things to learn about the lively little sisters who had so suddenly come into her life again; and Wilhelmina, who knew very well what four-year-olds can be up to, chuckled at the thought of the surprises they would give Mary. Then she sniffed the air anxiously. "Mary, I smell smoke! I told you something is wrong!"

She ran from the room and down the back stairs, with Mary at her heels. But Liza in the kitchen had caught sight of the blaze down in the corner between the barn and the fence and had hurried out on the back porch. They heard her shouting, "Git away fum dah! Git away fum dat fiah, yo' heah me!" And before they reached the kitchen, she had run down the steps, and snatching up a carriage robe that lay airing on the grass, she rushed toward the children, who were clapping their hands and jumping about as near as possible to the burning rubbish. They did not hear Liza's shouts, nor did they notice what she had seen--a tiny flame leap out and catch the edge of the ruffle on Berta's little starched apron. Swiftly it crept along until a frightened cry from Beth warned Berta of her danger.

"Don't run, chile! Don't run! I'se gwine to put it out! Lay down on de ground, quick!"

But Berta jumped about and tore at her apron in frantic fear. Another moment and Liza was upon her, wrapping the robe around her and rolling her on the ground.

"Call yo' pa an' Tom, Miss May-ree, 'foah de fence kotches fiah! Missy Berta's all right! Tom's down in de cellah! Now, den." She removed the robe and made sure that nothing but Berta's apron had suffered from the fire, and that it was fright only which made the child cling to her, sobbing and moaning. She decided that a scolding all around would make everyone feel better and began, "What yo' s'pects ought to be did wif sech chilluns as yo' is, I lak to know! Which one ob yo' alls fetched de matches fo' to light dat fiah? 'Kase I knows Tom nebah done it. He's got moah sense dan to light a fiah wif yo' chilluns playin' round heah."

"I----I tooked----s----some----m----matches from the k----k----kitchen when you w----went in the pantry."

"Huh! An' see what yo' got fo' doin' sech a t'ing, Missy Berta. An' which one ob yo' alls put all dat rubbish in dat co'nah, 'spectin' to sot de bahn an' fence on fiah, I lak to know?"

"It----it was all there already, Liza, and----and we thinked we----we's going to make a nice s'prise for Tom, so we did."

"Huh! I reckon yo' bettah let Tom tek care ob de rubbish aftah dis, Missy Bef. Dat lazy niggah doan' need nobuddy to mek s'prises fo' him, nohow. An' which one ob yo' alls struck de matches an' sot fiah to dat rubbish, I lak to know?"

"I did, Liza."

"I w----wanted----t----to, b----but Dick----s----said girls don't know how to m----make fires s----so very well, s----so Beth and I let him d----do it."

"Huh! Wal, yo's comp'ny, Massa Dick, an' I ain't gwine to tell yo' what I thinks ob a li'l boy what's got sech a lubly ma as yo's got, teachin' li'l gels to mek fiahs an' sech lak."

"But----but we asked him to, Liza."

"Don't mek no diff'unce, Missy Bef. No-buddy ain't got no right to do nuffin wrong jes' 'kase somebuddy axes him to. Now, den, yo' alls gwine right 'long into de kitchen, an' you' ain't nebah gwine to watch yo' pa an' Tom put out dat fiah, so yo' ain't! Go long wif yo'!" Liza drove them before her and turned aside to answer Mr. Selwyn's anxious questions.

"No, sah, Massa Rob, she ain't hurt a mite, only skeered; an' I reckon I fixed dat all right by gibbin' dem all de bestest scoldin' dey ebah got. She's done forgot all 'bout de fiah fo' wondahing what I'se gwine to do wif dem when I gits dem into de kitchen, he! he! he!"

She kept her word in regard to the fire, for she wished to drive the memory of the fright from Berta's mind; but she set a big plate of cookies on the kitchen table and brought each of them a glass of milk. Then she hurried into the dining-room to meet the two mothers who, in spite of hearing from Mary and Wilhelmina that the children were safe, had hurried down stairs to see for themselves; and all agreed that the less said the better. But Mrs. Selwyn went to the telephone to ask her sister to let the little ones spend the next day at Maryvale.

When the twins heard of the plan at dinner that evening, they clapped their hands in delight.

"We must be ready to leave here as soon as we have had breakfast," said the Doctor. "I shall put you and Aunt Mandy on the train, and two or three of the older girls with the wagonette from the convent will meet you. Tom had better go, too, I think. He and Jerry, the gardener, can unpack the furniture as it is unloaded and set up the beds so that we shall have a place to sleep to-morrow night; for I am quite sure that we shall spend it at Bird-a-Lea."