CHAPTER X--Robin Hill
Mr. Blake came down the road to meet them, and in his hand he carriedLydia's little traveling-bag.
"I'm going away," thought Lydia. "Where am I going? And what will becomeof Roger?"
As Mr. Blake drew nearer he smiled and waved the bag in the air.
"You are going visiting, Lydia," he called cheerfully. "But who is yournew little friend?"
"Oh, Father, it's Roger," answered Lydia, forgetting her own affairs inher interest in the little boy who stood peeping shyly over hershoulder. "He wanted so to come with me, and Mr. Jolly didn't know whatto do, so I said you would fix it. And Mr. Jolly will come and see youto-night, and I was to tell you all about it."
Mr. Blake sat down on the stone wall at the side of the road, andlistened to the tale Lydia had to tell.
"Let me see your arm, son," said he gently, when Lydia had finished. "Sothat is where the big boy pinched you, is it? Have you any more placeslike that?"
Roger nodded, and put his hand on his side and his back.
"He hit me with the harness," said he, with trembling lip. "I want tostay with her. I won't go back." And Roger smeared away his tears withthe back of a grimy little hand, while with the other he clutched hisnew friend Lydia.
"No, of course you won't go back, son," answered Mr. Blake, pursing uphis lips as if to whistle. "We can do better by you than that. My littlegirl is going up to Robin Hill to make a visit, and you shall go alongwith her. Miss Martin will simply have two visitors instead of one." AndMr. Blake smiled down into the serious little faces looking up into his.
"Mother's head is worse, Lydia," he explained, "and Dr. Wolfe isn't surewhat the trouble is. So you are to make a little visit at Robin Hill,and I will telephone every day, and come to see you when I can."
"But won't Mother want me to wait on her?" asked Lydia anxiously. "Isshe very sick?"
"I hope not," answered Father, in such a cheerful voice that Lydia feltbetter immediately. "Don't fret. You will probably be home in a fewdays, and you know you will want to stay, anyway, until Roger feels athome. Here comes Alexander; he will take you up. And I packed your bagmyself, Lydia. I think I put everything in. I know I packed yourfavorite brown slippers, and Lucy Locket is on top of everything."
Mr. Blake was lifting the children into the cart as he spoke. He talkedin a low voice to Alexander, and then with a kiss to Lydia, and a patupon Roger's black pate, he started back to the house, and off theydrove.
"They are my 'brown bettys'!" cried Lydia after him. "Tell Mother I'llwear them only on Sunday."
Maggie Medicine trotted bravely up the road and under the big oak treesthat made the driveway at Robin Hill such a shady and comfortable placeto play. There were no children in sight, but Miss Martin was watchingfor them on the broad veranda, and she came forward to help them out ofthe cart.
"So this is Roger," said she, smiling and holding out her arms to theforlorn child, who willingly crept into their comfortable shelter. "Yourfather has just telephoned me, Lydia, so I know all about him. You willfind the children in the barn, I think." And Miss Martin carried Rogeroff for the bath and the nap that the tired, dusty little boy neededsorely.
Lydia gladly left her charge in such good hands, and with a hastygood-bye to Alexander, ran off to find her friends. She was glad to bevisiting, and she thought Robin Hill beautiful, and indeed it was aspleasant a place to spend the summer as could be found anywhere. Theliving-rooms were spacious and cool, the bedrooms sunny and airy. A bigattic, meant for play on rainy days, crowned the top of the house, andthere each child had a place for the treasures that would otherwise havebeen strewn from one end to the other of Robin Hill, or have beenbanished altogether. Sticks, stones, weeds, cocoons, acorns, "Anythingthat can't walk, swim, or fly," was Miss Martin's decree. "Live-stockmust go into the barn."
So out in the barn lived Snowball and Nig, the white and the blackrabbits given Sammy by Dr. Wolfe. The first day, yes, the first hour ofSammy's arrival at Robin Hill, in trying to climb the old apple-tree,down he came to the ground on his head, and four big stitches were setby the doctor in order to mend his broken crown. Sammy bore the painlike a hero, and not until it was all over and he was left alone withMiss Martin did he shed a few salt drops upon her friendly shoulder. Butthe sore head was soon forgotten, when that very afternoon had come thetwo rabbits to be Sammy's special charge and delight throughout hissummer stay. Friendly old Billy, the horse, and the two placid whitecows, Brindle and Bossy, were quite accustomed to their many littlevisitors, and submitted with a good grace to be patted, and stroked, andfed hay and lumps of sugar.
Back of the house lay the garden, and there each child large enough towield rake and hoe had his own little plot. During the first weeks ofspring planting, Miss Martin was overwhelmed with promises of peas andbeans and radishes for the Robin Hill table. Sammy and Polly and MaryEllen had a scheme whereby, if their crops were as successful as theyhoped, they would sell their produce to the village grocer, and with theproceeds make an interesting purchase.
"We'll buy a piano," said Polly.
"A gold chain for Miss Martin," said Mary Ellen.
"A hand-organ," said Sammy, in a burst of inspiration, "and travel allover, taking pennies in a hat. We'll be rich." And Sammy smacked hislips at the thought.
To-day, after dinner, at which Roger did not appear, Lydia, with armsabout Mary Ellen and Polly, visited the pets, and listened to all thehopes and plans of her friends, not, however, without telling a few ofher own.
Tom, growing brown and rosy and more boyish every day, led her to theswing lately put up in the woodshed, and gave her a swing in his fineststyle, running under and back in a manly fashion that he much admired.He seldom put his finger in his mouth now, and resorted to GeneralPershing, Jr., for comfort only on the rare occasions when in disgrace.
Sammy graciously permitted Lydia to feed Snowball and Nig with cabbageleaves, and her admiration of their wiggling pink noses so moved himthat he offered to show his cut without asking a favor in return, quitecontrary to his usual custom.
Lydia missed two of her old friends. Luley and Lena had gone away to anew home of their own, and Polly and Mary Ellen excitedly told of theircall last week at Robin Hill.
"They came in an automobile," said Polly, much impressed, "and theirhair was done in curls, just alike, and they wore beautiful big pinkhair-ribbons. And their new mother's hat was just dripping withfeathers. She doesn't call them Luley and Lena any more at all. Theirnames are Eloise and Eleanore." And Polly rolled up her eyes at thethought of her little friends' grandeur.
"I shouldn't think they would know who they are, changing their namesthat way," said downright Mary Ellen. "And their clothes were so finethey didn't dare play with us, either. I don't believe they have anybetter times than we do." And Mary Ellen surveyed with completesatisfaction her dark gingham dress and stout little shoes. The childrenno longer dressed alike in blue-and-white, and Mary Ellen wasparticularly proud of her blue-and-green Scotch plaid.
"Oh, I do," said Polly, not at all influenced by this good sense. "Ithink it's lovely to change your name. I'd give anything if mine wasEdna Muriel. Don't you think that's a pretty name, Lydia?"
"Yes, lovely," answered Lydia absently. She was thinking of her bronzeslippers, and wondering what Mary Ellen would say to them. Perhaps shewould scorn her for taking such pleasure in them. It was quite true thatthey were not meant for rough play.
But Nurse Norrie was calling them in to supper, and Lydia could only sayin a low voice to Polly as they lagged behind Mary Ellen on their way tothe house:
"I've a lovely pair of bronze slippers with me, and you shall try themon after supper."
Polly nodded, her eyes dancing, and as they hurried out on the porchafter washing face and hands, she pinched Lydia's arm gently, by way ofreminder of their secret, as she passed her on the way to her seat.
The table was set on the back veranda where it was cool and shady, andeach boy and girl stood quietly
behind his or her chair until grace wassaid and Miss Martin had taken her seat. To-night Miss Martin cameleading little Roger whose long nap was only just over, and on her otherside stood Tom, his heart in a flutter. It was his turn for the firsttime to say grace. Bravely he started off, but to his great surprise heheard himself saying:
"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray, Thee, Lord, my soul to keep."
He heard Sammy snicker, he felt the little girl beside him shake withlaughter, so Tom stopped short.
"No, that isn't right," said he aloud.
He thought for a moment, but not a word of the little grace so carefullytaught him came back to help him out. Suddenly, his Bible verse of lastSunday flashed upon his mind.
"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want," repeated little Tom boldly,and then he turned to pull out Miss Martin's chair as a sign that hispart was done.
"Was that all right?" he whispered audibly; "I forgot the other one."
There was a strange look about Miss Martin's mouth, and she passed herhandkerchief over her face before answering.
"Very nice, Tom, to think of another verse so quickly, since you forgotthe grace." She spoke so that the whole table could hear, and her eyeswere fixed on Sammy, whose face was red and who was making queer noises."I wish I felt sure we all could do that," she added pointedly.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Sammy, choking back his laugh. "I mean, no,ma'am, I don't think I could." And Sammy fell to work upon the bowl ofoatmeal before him, glad to escape the gaze of so many eyes.
Roger looked slowly round the long table laden with plates of brown andwhite bread, pitchers of foamy milk, bowls of apple-sauce. His eyestraveled down one side of the table, past his friend Lydia, to Sammy,intent now upon his supper; flyaway Cora, never still a minute; big Joe,little Joe, Josephine, and Joey; freckled little Freddy; and rested uponMary Ellen presiding sedately over the foot of the table. Up the otherside he came, looking at little English Alfie; spectacled John; Louiseand Minette, the tiny, black-eyed French refugees; honest AmericanWilliam, with round blue eyes and snub nose; fat little Gus, whosepranks and hairbreadth escapes already rivaled those of Sammy; babyCelia; Polly, smiling and nodding mysteriously at Lydia; and lastly atTom, who, duty done, was thoroughly enjoying his well-earned meal.Eighteen hearty and happy little boys and girls they were, kindly andwell disposed toward him, too, for they smiled and nodded at thenewcomer, and attentively saw that all his wants were supplied.
"Aren't they nice?" asked Lydia, following Roger's gaze. "I knew youwould like the boys. They won't hurt you. And the girls are fun, too."And Lydia beamed proudly round at her friends, old and new.
"I'll take you out to see my rabbits after supper, if you like," offeredSammy, extra polite because of his recent behavior.
"And I'll give you a swing," volunteered Tom bashfully.
The boys were nice, Roger thought, and when, after supper, Lydiawhispered hastily, "You go with the boys now, Roger, and I'll come in aminute; I only want to show something to Polly," he trotted offcontentedly, and was soon engrossed in the bunnies, who obliginglydevoured cabbage leaves, with seemingly no limit to their appetite.
Lydia and Polly hastened upstairs and into the room where Lydia was tosleep that night with two other little girls. Her bag had been unpacked,and her clothes neatly disposed in one of the small cupboards that linedthe wall. On the window-sill lay Lucy Locket, and beside her only one ofthe bronze slippers.
"Why, I don't see it anywhere, Polly," said Lydia, after a third searchof the cupboard for the missing shoe. "You help me look."
The girls made a careful search, but no bronze slipper was to be found.
"I know I brought them both," said Lydia at last, her face puckering."Father said so, and I looked in the bag myself."
"Perhaps some one has taken it," was all Polly, her eyes big and round,could suggest.
"I know who did it!" exclaimed Lydia, her head in a whirl at her loss."It's that Mary Ellen. She took my slipper because she didn't like them,and I'm going to tell Miss Martin."
And in a twinkling, Lydia was running down the hall calling:
"Miss Martin! Miss Martin! One of my 'brown bettys' is gone, and MaryEllen took it! Mary Ellen has taken one of my 'brown bettys'!"