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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Been at home pining for some place to go," said Ernestine drawing the sewing from Bea's hand, and leaning over into that sister's lap with a caressive gesture. "Say Bea, dear, Miss Neilson is going to be in New York next week, and I want you to ask pa if he won't take us again; won't you?" "Not fair," cried Kat; "this is our turn." "You, indeed; nothing but children! Will you, Bea?
"Try it," called the ex-nurse with laconic scorn, "I'll allow you the full hour for the experiment." It must have been a very full hour indeed, to judge from Bea's feelings as the minutes dawdled past. It seemed to her that instead of flying with their sixty wings, according to the rhyme, each minute trailed its feathers in the dust as it shuffled along.
"That person with the gray beard," began Bea, calmly, only to be interrupted by, "Why, so it is! What fun! Where does she put the envelopes addressed to herself? Oh, yes, I see. Why " Berta caught Bea's skirts in a firm grasp. "See here, young lady, you'll go over the banisters head first if you don't undouble yourself pretty soon. You'll "
Dering obediently went in, as he tramped briskly down the walk. That last evening of Bea's in the old home came very near being a sad one, in spite of every one's attempt to the contrary. Ernestine stayed down stairs for the first evening since her illness, and the excitement brought a stain of color into her white cheeks that made her look more like her old self, as she lay on the lounge.
Bea's little cautions, Ernestine's careful talks and examples of grace and dignity, Olive's open ridicule, and Jean's childish wonder, were all set aside, by a quiet smile from mama, or papa's hearty exclamation of "let them alone they're the only boys I've got."
She ignored Bea's call from the kitchen; she ran up-stairs to the unfrequented guest-room; she wept in terror, her body a pale arc as she knelt beside a cumbrous black-walnut bed, beside a puffy mattress covered with a red quilt, in a shuttered and airless room. "DON'T I, in looking for things to do, show that I'm not attentive enough to Will? Am I impressed enough by his work? I will be.
Portières rustled apart, and two more apparitions loomed pallidly in the dark. "Hulloa!" gasped Berta's voice, while a woodeny click from Bea's direction told of Indian clubs snatched bravely in readiness for war. "Light the gas, girls," ordered Gertrude quietly; "there, dear, don't be frightened now. See, we are all here. We will take care of you. What was it startled you?" "I don't know.
Only hurry and come out;" and away fluttered Kittie, with the memory of Bea's brightened face, to provide the young guests with plates and expectations.
Barnett took Bea's hand and with a lowly bow, said to them all: "Mother and sisters, relatives and friends, my wife and I will be pleased to have you come with us to our new home, and help eat our wedding breakfast."
It was Bea's best soprano, with several extra trills strewn between the consonants. "Listen to the mocking-bird. Oh, the mocking-bird is singing on the bough. Bravo, encore! Chir-awhirr! Encore! "'Make me over, Mother April, When the sap begins to stir.
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