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And Little-Dad had not changed a bit, nor the house, nor the garden, nor Bigboy not a thing, Jerry had found on an excited round.
Allan was already comfortably fixed. But at this moment Bigboy tried to leap into the car. When Dr. Travis gripped his collar he let out a long, protesting howl. "Oh, Bigboy he knows! Let me say good-by again," cried Jerry, jumping out and, to everyone's amusement, embracing the dog. "You must be a good dog and take very good care of my Sweetheart and Little-Dad," she whispered.
Then, standing, she looked around. "Where's Pepperpot?" she asked anxiously. The little dog had disappeared. "He'll think that I love Bigboy more than I do him," she explained, as she climbed back in. The car started down the rough road. Jerry turned to wave; as long as she could see her mother and father she kept her little white handkerchief fluttering. Then she faced resolutely forward.
But, maybe, child, you'll find that what you have right here is far better than anything on the other side of the mountain. Now, suppose you lead the way to Sunnyside." Jerry sprang ahead eagerly. "And then you'll meet Sweetheart and Little-Dad and Bigboy and Pepperpot!"
And I've cleaned Little-Dad's pipes. And I've promised Bigboy and Pepperpot and Dormouse that they may all sleep on my bed to-night. I'm afraid Pepperpot he's so sensitive is going to miss me dreadfully!" Jerry tried to frown away the thought; she did not want it to intrude upon her joy. That last evening she sat quietly on the porch with one hand in her mother's and the other in Little-Dad's.
They rudely disturbed the Maltese Dormouse, Jerry called her and then occupied in sprawling fashion the strip of rug before the hearth. "Be still, Pepper! Shake hands with the gentleman, Bigboy. They're as offended as can be because I ran away without them," she explained to John Westley. "Do you feel better now?" she asked, a little proprietary note in her voice.
Jerry, a funny little figure in her coat that was too small and a fall hat that Mrs. Chubb had made over from one of her mother's, was, with careful impartiality, bestowing final caresses upon Bigboy, Pepperpot, Silverheels, and her father and mother alike. Then, at the last moment, she almost strangled her mother with a sweep of her strong young arms.
And now, quite suddenly, a new and wonderful possibility unfolded to have Gyp at home with mother and Little-Dad, sleeping in the tiny room under the gable, climbing the trails with her, working in the garden, playing with Bigboy, sharing all the precious joys of Kettle, meant a link; after that, there could be no real separation. And she wanted Isobel, too.
Mothers are always willing to do the things that are going to be best for their girls. Mrs. Allan and I have persuaded her " But Jerry, with a "whoop," was racing down the trail, Bigboy and Pepperpot at her heels. She vaulted the little gate leading into the garden and swept like a small whirlwind upon her mother, sitting in the willow rocker on the porch.
"I'm beginning to feel like Jerry that Kettle Mountain is inhabited by fairies and that I am in their stronghold!" But there was little suggestive of the fairy in Jerry as she tumbled through the door at that moment, Pepperpot held high in her arms and Bigboy leaping at her side.
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