CHAPTER XXXII. OUR LAST EVENING TOGETHER
IT was the evening before the day on which the Story Girl and UncleBlair were to leave us, and we were keeping our last tryst togetherin the orchard where we had spent so many happy hours. We had made apilgrimage to all the old haunts--the hill field, the spruce wood, thedairy, Grandfather King's willow, the Pulpit Stone, Pat's grave, andUncle Stephen's Walk; and now we foregathered in the sere grasses aboutthe old well and feasted on the little jam turnovers Felicity had madethat day specially for the occasion.
"I wonder if we'll ever all be together again," sighed Cecily.
"I wonder when I'll get jam turnovers like this again," said the StoryGirl, trying to be gay but not making much of a success of it.
"If Paris wasn't so far away I could send you a box of nice thingsnow and then," said Felicity forlornly, "but I suppose there's no usethinking of that. Dear knows what they'll give you to eat over there."
"Oh, the French have the reputation of being the best cooks in theworld," rejoined the Story Girl, "but I know they can't beat your jamturnovers and plum puffs, Felicity. Many a time I'll be hankering afterthem."
"If we ever do meet again you'll be grown up," said Felicity gloomily.
"Well, you won't have stood still yourselves, you know."
"No, but that's just the worst of it. We'll all be different andeverything will be changed."
"Just think," said Cecily, "last New Year's Eve we were wondering whatwould happen this year; and what a lot of things have happened that wenever expected. Oh, dear!"
"If things never happened life would be pretty dull," said the StoryGirl briskly. "Oh, don't look so dismal, all of you."
"It's hard to be cheerful when everybody's going away," sighed Cecily.
"Well, let's pretend to be, anyway," insisted the Story Girl. "Don'tlet's think of parting. Let's think instead of how much we've laughedthis last year or so. I'm sure I shall never forget this dear old place.We've had so many good times here."
"And some bad times, too," reminded Felix.
"Remember when Dan et the bad berries last summer?"
"And the time we were so scared over that bell ringing in the house,"grinned Peter.
"And the Judgment Day," added Dan.
"And the time Paddy was bewitched," suggested Sara Ray.
"And when Peter was dying of the measles," said Felicity.
"And the time Jimmy Patterson was lost," said Dan. "Gee-whiz, but thatscared me out of a year's growth."
"Do you remember the time we took the magic seed," grinned Peter.
"Weren't we silly?" said Felicity. "I really can never look BillyRobinson in the face when I meet him. I'm always sure he's laughing atme in his sleeve."
"It's Billy Robinson who ought to be ashamed when he meets you or any ofus," commented Cecily severely. "I'd rather be cheated than cheat otherpeople."
"Do you mind the time we bought God's picture?" asked Peter.
"I wonder if it's where we buried it yet," speculated Felix.
"I put a stone over it, just as we did over Pat," said Cecily.
"I wish I could forget what God looks like," sighed Sara Ray. "I can'tforget it--and I can't forget what the bad place is like either, eversince Peter preached that sermon on it."
"When you get to be a real minister you'll have to preach that sermonover again, Peter," grinned Dan.
"My Aunt Jane used to say that people needed a sermon on that place oncein a while," retorted Peter seriously.
"Do you mind the night I et the cucumbers and milk to make me dream?"said Cecily.
And therewith we hunted out our old dream books to read them again, and,forgetful of coming partings, laughed over them till the old orchardechoed to our mirth. When we had finished we stood in a circle aroundthe well and pledged "eternal friendship" in a cup of its unrivalledwater.
Then we joined hands and sang "Auld Lang Syne." Sara Ray cried bitterlyin lieu of singing.
"Look here," said the Story Girl, as we turned to leave the old orchard,"I want to ask a favour of you all. Don't say good-bye to me tomorrowmorning."
"Why not?" demanded Felicity in astonishment.
"Because it's such a hopeless sort of word. Don't let's SAY it at all.Just see me off with a wave of your hands. It won't seem half so badthen. And don't any of you cry if you can help it. I want to rememberyou all smiling."
We went out of the old orchard where the autumn night wind was beginningto make its weird music in the russet boughs, and shut the little gatebehind us. Our revels there were ended.
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE STORY GIRL GOES
The morning dawned, rosy and clear and frosty. Everybody was up early,for the travellers must leave in time to catch the nine o'clock train.The horse was harnessed and Uncle Alec was waiting by the door. AuntJanet was crying, but everybody else was making a valiant effort not to.The Awkward Man and Mrs. Dale came to see the last of their favourite.Mrs. Dale had brought her a glorious sheaf of chrysanthemums, and theAwkward Man gave her, quite gracefully, another little, old, limp bookfrom his library.
"Read it when you are sad or happy or lonely or discouraged or hopeful,"he said gravely.
"He has really improved very much since he got married," whisperedFelicity to me.
Sara Stanley wore a smart new travelling suit and a blue felt hat with awhite feather. She looked so horribly grown up in it that we felt as ifshe were lost to us already.
Sara Ray had vowed tearfully the night before that she would be up inthe morning to say farewell. But at this juncture Judy Pineau appearedto say that Sara, with her usual luck, had a sore throat, and that hermother consequently would not permit her to come. So Sara had writtenher parting words in a three-cornered pink note.
"My OWN DARLING FRIEND:--WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS my feelings over not being able to go up this morning to say good-bye to one I so FONDLY ADORE. When I think that I cannot SEE YOU AGAIN my heart is almost TOO FULL FOR UTTERANCE. But mother says I cannot and I MUST OBEY. But I will be present IN SPIRIT. It just BREAKS MY HEART that you are going SO FAR AWAY. You have always been SO KIND to me and never hurt my feelings AS SOME DO and I shall miss you SO MUCH. But I earnestly HOPE AND PRAY that you will be HAPPY AND PROSPEROUS wherever YOUR LOT IS CAST and not be seasick on THE GREAT OCEAN. I hope you will find time AMONG YOUR MANY DUTIES to write me a letter ONCE IN A WHILE. I shall ALWAYS REMEMBER YOU and please remember me. I hope we WILL MEET AGAIN sometime, but if not may we meet in A FAR BETTER WORLD where there are no SAD PARTINGS.
"Your true and loving friend,
"SARA RAY"
"Poor little Sara," said the Story Girl, with a queer catch in hervoice, as she slipped the tear-blotted note into her pocket. "She isn'ta bad little soul, and I'm sorry I couldn't see her once more, thoughmaybe it's just as well for she'd have to cry and set us all off. IWON'T cry. Felicity, don't you dare. Oh, you dear, darling people, Ilove you all so much and I'll go on loving you always."
"Mind you write us every week at the very least," said Felicity, winkingfuriously.
"Blair, Blair, watch over the child well," said Aunt Janet. "Remember,she has no mother."
The Story Girl ran over to the buggy and climbed in. Uncle Blairfollowed her. Her arms were full of Mrs. Dale's chrysanthemums, heldclose up to her face, and her beautiful eyes shone softly at us overthem. No good-byes were said, as she wished. We all smiled bravely andwaved our hands as they drove out of the lane and down the moist redroad into the shadows of the fir wood in the valley. But we still stoodthere, for we knew we should see the Story Girl once more. Beyond thefir wood was an open curve in the road and she had promised to wave alast farewell as they passed around it.
We watched the curve in silence, standing in a sorrowful little groupin the sunshine of the autumn morning. The delight of the world had beenours on the golden road. It had enticed us with daisies and rewardedus with roses. Blossom and lyric had waited on our wishes. Thoughts,ca
reless and sweet, had visited us. Laughter had been our comrade andfearless Hope our guide. But now the shadow of change was over it.
"There she is," cried Felicity.
The Story Girl stood up and waved her chrysanthemums at us. We wavedwildly back until the buggy had driven around the curve. Then we wentslowly and silently back to the house. The Story Girl was gone.
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