Chapter 12

THURSDAY.

"Great 'citement going on, isn't they, Uncle?" Berta hurried through the hall, lugging a suitcase almost as large as herself. It did not matter that there was nothing in it; that Aunt Mandy was taking a valise into which she had put two little dresses and two little suits for fear that, by evening, those the children were wearing would not be fit to be seen. But a valise was not a suitcase; and Berta, who had made up her mind to travel in proper style, insisted, "Ev'ybody going on a train always takes a shootcase."

"Leave that at the head of the stairs, and I shall carry it down for you. If you should fall with it, there _would_ be some excitement."

"Very well, Uncle." And the child pattered down to join the group in the lower hall.

Then Beth thought of Fluff; and Mary hurried upstairs for the little covered basket which she had promised the twins, while Wilhelmina ran off to find the kitten. At last it was time to say good-bye; but when Mrs. Selwyn stooped to kiss Beth, the child drew back, her lips quivering.

"But----but isn't you and Daddy coming, too, Mother?"

"Not this morning, dear; but we shall be out there as early as possible this afternoon."

"Then----then I guess I'se going to wait till this afternoon-time, too." And seating herself on the lowest step of the stairs, she took off her hat.

"But, Beth----then----then I isn't going, too, till this afternoon-time, 'cause we's twins, you know, and we must do ev'ything 'zactly the same." Berta took her place beside her sister.

"Surely, Beth, you will not spoil the day for your little guests; for, of course, Dick and Jack will not care to go to Maryvale without you and Berta. And what will Aunt Mary and the Sisters and all your little friends at the convent think? They are looking forward to your visit. If I were to go down town to do some shopping, I would be away for the greater part of the day, you know, and you would think nothing of that. Come, dear, put on your hat and help Berta with the basket. Just think how many people you will make happy to-day."

Those in the hall drew a deep breath when the carriage door closed on the travelers. Half way to the ferry, Berta remembered the suitcase, which Mr. Selwyn had quietly slipped out of sight during the little delay at the front door. But the Doctor insisted that they would miss the train if they went back for it, so the little girl had to content herself with the basket containing the kitten. On the train, Aunt Mandy had her hands full; for the twins thought it was "puffeckly drefful" to keep Fluff shut up in such a way and took her out of the basket, placing her on the seat between them. But the kitten had her own ideas about traveling; and jumping off the seat, she raced up and down the aisle with the four after her. Under the seats, around the feet of the passengers, she scampered, until first one, then another of the children came back to Aunt Mandy, bumped and bruised. The poor old soul gave a great sigh of relief when, with the help of three of the large girls from the convent, she had them safely seated in the wagonette.

As they neared Bird-a-Lea, the children strained their eyes for the first glimpse of the new home; and when Patrick, the driver, turned in at the east gate and drove slowly up the broad, curving driveway, they clapped their hands in great glee. On past the house and down the drive to the west gate they went, then up the road to Maryvale. Mother Madeline was at the front door to welcome them. She had to hear of the new red wheelbarrow and the garden sets, of the surprises and accidents, of everything, in fact, that Dick and the twins could remember; and baby Jack put the finishing touches to the story by lisping, "Big fire! Burn Berta! Litha run fatht!" Of course, Mother Madeline pretended not to understand him, and the other three did not try to explain what he meant.

Such romps and frolics as they had with the little boarders; and when noontime came, a picnic luncheon was served under the trees.

To the great joy of the other three, Mother Madeline thought Jack was the only one who needed an afternoon nap; and as he was already half asleep, he went willingly into the house with Aunt Mandy. Then Sister Austin asked help to unpack school supplies; and trip after trip the children made, carrying boxes of chalk, pencils, and erasers, and packages of paper from the packing-box at the side door to the big press at the end of the hall. At first, Berta, Beth, and Dick walked very carefully on the polished floor; but it was not long before they followed the example of the other children, who made the return trips with a run and a long slide. When the packing-case was empty. Sister Austin opened a box of pencils, which she had laid aside on the window sill, and let the children take their choice. Dick spied a red, white, and blue striped one with a little gilt eagle instead of an eraser; and to keep from seizing it, he had to slip out of his place and go to the end of the line and say over and over to himself, "Ladies first. Father always says, 'Ladies first!'" His heart sank when one of the little girls picked it up; but she saw a bright green one with an emerald at the end of it, which she liked better. The little fellow's sigh of relief was not lost on Sister Austin, who had noticed him changing his place in the line. He felt safe now, for all but the twins had chosen, and he was sure that Berta would take a red pencil, and Beth a blue one. At last the striped one was safe in his little brown fist; and Sister Austin gave him a pat on the head and let him choose a pencil for Jack.

"Now, I shall put these that are left into the press and lock the doors until Monday. What a busy time we shall have down here that day!"

"Sister, please tell me the name of this beauty red stone in my pencil?"

"That is a make believe ruby, Berta, and Beth's is a sapphire."

"Oh, oh! Please, Sister, is they any other blue pencils in the box, or a white one?"

"Why, yes, Beth, here is a pale blue one with a turquoise in it."

"I think that's _ever_ so much more beauty than this one; doesn't you, Sister?"

"I prefer the sapphire myself, Beth, but there is no reason why you may not have this other one."

"Beth doesn't like nennything with fire in it so very well, Sister, and I doesn't, too; and that's why she likes the turkey pencil best of all."

Sister Austin turned to the shelves to hide a smile; for she had heard of the event of the day before.

Presently, Mother Madeline came for the children. "Your father has just telephoned to say that they are leaving on the four-thirty train; and as Patrick is going to the station with the wagonette to meet them, I thought you might like to go, too. Aunt Mandy is waiting to wash your faces and hands."

A half hour later, the four with the old nurse were ready at the front door.

"Be sure to bring them all back with you, Aunt Mandy. We shall have an early supper for them. Bird-a-Lea is still very much upset, and Liza is too tired to try to get a meal this evening."

"Jes' as yo' says, Miss May-ree." For to the old servant, Mother Madeline was still her dear Miss Mary. "Jes' as yo' says. Lord lub yo'! Dey all am sho'ly tiahed out aftah dese days ob teahin' up an' teahin' down an' packin' an' eberyt'ing, an' I'se gwine to delivah yo' message persackly de way yo's done tol' me, I sahtinly is."

It would be hard to tell how many blessings the old woman would have heaped on Mother Madeline's head if she had known that there were two guest rooms at the convent ready for Mrs. Selwyn and Mrs. Marvin, with two little cribs in each. Mary could share Wilhelmina's room, and Mother Madeline knew that her brother and Mr. Selwyn would be comfortable at Bird-a-Lea in the two bedrooms which she and some of the Sisters had put in fairly good order for them. Nor had Aunt Mandy and Liza been forgotten.

"So you see, little folks, someone else can 'make s'prises,' too," she laughed when, helping to serve at the supper table, she had told her plans for the night.

"I have always said that we are a very surprising family, Aunt Mary. It seems to me that nothing should really surprise us any more after all the wonderful things that have happened this summer."

"Perhaps you are right, Mary; but I feel quite sure that the 's'prises,' though not so important, will be greater in number from now on."

The little ones had found one day at Maryvale so pleasant that they did not need to be coaxed to spend a second and a third there; and with them safely out of the way, the new home was quickly put in order.