After supper the children went out-of-doors and sat on the steps in the sweet night air while Letty sang to them. They grew very quiet and sober in the soft, solemn darkness. Presently Christopher said briskly, by way of breaking what he thought was beginning to be an awkward silence:

"I guess you're some happy to-night, Letty. How does it feel to be somebody's little girl after you haven't belonged to anybody for so long?"

Instead of answering Letty suddenly began to cry. She only now saw how very lonely she had been these past three dreary years.

"There now, you rude boy, you've hurt her feelings. I hope you're satisfied," exclaimed Jane indignantly. "How would you like to be told you didn't belong to any one?"

"But I do belong to some one, and I always have. But Letty didn't, until Mrs. Hartwell-Jones took her, and I don't see why she has to cry just because I spoke the truth," argued Christopher.

"Kit is right," said Letty, drying her tears. "I didn't belong to any one before and it makes me so happy now to think that I'm really going to be somebody's little girl again that-that I had to cry."

"Huh! Had to cry! Why don't you laugh if you're glad? Why, I'd laugh for a week if I was going to belong to somebody that had as many good things to eat as Mrs. Hartwell-Jones always has."

"Why, Kit, would you like to leave father and mother?" exclaimed Jane, much shocked.

"I didn't say that, but Mrs. Hartwell-Jones certainly does know how to feed a fellow," and Christopher smacked his lips.

Letty saw the word "greedy" trembling on Jane's tongue and to check it she began quickly to talk about her good fortune.

"I am not to go to boarding-school, after all, because Mrs.

Hartwell-Jones said she would be too lonely without me," she said with a happy laugh. "Oh, just think of having a home to go back to every day after school! And the girls won't snub me because of being a little circus girl!" she exclaimed, and, to Christopher's vexation, began to cry again.

Jane grew very thoughtful all of a sudden. She thought of her own home-coming each day after school. She remembered that sometimes-quite often, indeed-she had not wanted to go home at all; had thought it very stupid to sit in the house and study. She would much rather go to the house of a schoolmate, or bring a friend home to play with her. But mother did not approve of visiting on schooldays, and Jane's good times always had to be put off until Friday and Sat.u.r.day during term-time.

Mother was always at home to welcome her, and to ask about her lessons, quite as much interested in everything that had happened as if she, too, were a little girl. Then Christopher would get home from his school and the twins would have a jolly romp together before study time. Still Jane had found it dull at home at times. She wondered why, when she thought of how much she loved her mother and when she saw how happy it made Letty to think of going home to a woman who was very dear and sweet but who wasn't her own mother after all-not really and truly her mother.

The children had not spoken for some time. Christopher was busying himself with trying how many stars he could count without changing his position. Suddenly a shadowy figure whirled toward them out of the darkness. Letty caught her breath and half rose to her feet. Christopher grasped the step with both hands and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed:-"Oh, cricky!" He grew very pale for a moment but controlled his feelings bravely. But Jane screamed outright and threw both her arms around Letty's neck.

But the shadowy figure turned out to be only Jo Perkins on his bicycle.

He carried a small envelope which he handed to Christopher.

"It's a cablegram, Kit," he said. "Run up to your grandfather with it, quick. It came about supper time and Huldah said she didn't know but it might be something important and that I'd better ride in with it."

Perk propped his bicycle against the steps and waited while the twins rushed up-stairs.

"It's from father and mother," shouted Christopher, tumbling up the stairs in the lead. "What does it say, grandfather, oh, what does it say?"

Jane scrambled up behind her brother.

"They're coming home, they're coming home!" she sang blissfully. "When, grandfather? When?"

Grandfather looked a bit startled at this abrupt entrance. He fumbled for his spectacles, put them on and unfolded the cablegram carefully, while grandmother leaned over his shoulder, almost as impatient as the children.

"We sail 'Metric' Thursday. All well," read grandfather.

"I knew they were coming, I knew it!" cried Jane happily. "When will they get here, grandfather?"

Then grandfather, grandmother and Jane began talking all at once, while Christopher whistled "The Campbells are Coming" as the most appropriate tune he could think of and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and Letty stood hand in hand, smiling upon them all happily. A few weeks ago this little scene of rejoicing would have made Letty very sorrowful, but now she had her own unspeakable joy.

Outside in the soft summer night Jo Perkins sat on the fence and waited in comfortable unconcern.

CHAPTER XIX

SYMPTOMS OF MEASLES

"Jane," said Christopher to his sister three days later, "a week is an awfully short time."

"What do you mean?" demanded Jane.

She knew that when Christopher began to speak in that tone he had, something in particular to say.

"I mean that in a week mother and father will be here and--"

"A week isn't a short time to wait to see them when we haven't seen them for a long, long summer," interrupted Jane indignantly.

"Well, it's a short time when it's all we've got left of staying here, isn't it?" retorted Christopher.

Jane's face lengthened. She had not thought of that side of the question.

"Do you think they are going to take us right straight home?" she asked slowly.

"Why, of course. Father's been away from his business so long that he'll just have to get back to it. I know enough to know that," replied Christopher in his most exasperatingly superior tone.

But Jane was too deep in her own thoughts to be provoked. She was trying to understand the queer feeling that Christopher's words brought to her heart. Surely she was not sorry that her father and mother were coming home? Oh, no, the thump her heart gave told her that that was not the reason. But it would be hard to leave grandfather and grandmother, Huldah and the puppies!

"Don't you think they'll let us stay a little longer?" she repeated.

"School doesn't begin for almost another month."

"I don't know. But if one of us was ill, we'd have to stay longer, wouldn't we?"

"Why, yes, of course. But then it wouldn't be any fun. Besides neither of us is ill or anything like it."

"It is fun to be ill if you're not so very bad," said Christopher, answering the first half of Jane's sentence. "Why, when Edward Hammond had the measles-do you remember?-he had lots of fun. He had to stay in bed a few days, but he didn't mind that 'cause his mother read him stories and he got lots of presents."

"Did he? Well, I guess mother'll bring us a present."

"And nice things to eat," went on Christopher. "It was really great sport being ill."

Jane eyed her brother suspiciously.

"Kit Baker, what's the matter? What do you mean? Why are you talking such a lot about Edward Hammond having the measles? It all happened over a year ago anyhow, and he's as well as you or I, now."

"It wasn't Edward I was thinking so much about as the measles."

Jane turned.