Just David [45]
a harp at the far end of the room.
It was the same story, told as David had told it to Jack and Jill a few days before, only this time David's eyes were roving admiringly all about the room, resting oftenest on the harp so near him.
"Did that make the music that I heard?" he asked eagerly, as soon as Miss Holbrook's questions gave him opportunity. "It's got strings."
"Yes. I was playing when you came in. I saw you enter the window. Really, David, are you in the habit of walking into people's houses like this? It is most disconcerting--to their owners."
"Yes--no--well, sometimes." David's eyes were still on the harp. "Lady of the Roses, won't you please play again--on that?"
"David, you are incorrigible! Why did you come into my house like this?"
"The music said 'come'; and the towers, too. You see, I KNOW the towers."
"You KNOW them!"
"Yes. I can see them from so many places, and I always watch for them. They show best of anywhere, though, from Jack and Jill's. And now won't you play?"
Miss Holbrook had almost risen to her feet when she turned abruptly.
"From--where?" she asked.
"From Jack and Jill's--the House that Jack Built, you know."
"You mean--Mr. John Gurnsey's house?" A deeper color had come into Miss Holbrook's cheeks.
"Yes. Over there at the top of the little hill across the brook, you know. You can't see THEIR house from here, but from over there we can see the towers finely, and the little window--Oh, Lady of the Roses," he broke off excitedly, at the new thought that had come to him, "if we, now, were in that little window, we COULD see their house. Let's go up. Can't we?"
Explicit as this was, Miss Holbrook evidently did not hear, or at least did not understand, this request. She settled back on the divan, indeed, almost determinedly. Her cheeks were very red now.
"And do you know--this Mr. Jack?" she asked lightly.
"Yes, and Jill, too. Don't you? I like them, too. DO you know them?"
Again Miss Holbrook ignored the question put to her. "And did you walk into their house, unannounced and uninvited, like this?" she queried.
"No. He asked me. You see he wanted to get off some of the dirt and blood before other folks saw me."
"The dirt and--and--why, David, what do you mean? What was it--an accident?"
David frowned and reflected a moment.
"No. I did it on purpose. I HAD to, you see," he finally elucidated. "But there were six of them, and I got the worst of it."
"David!" Miss Holbrook's voice was horrified. "You don't mean--a fight!"
"Yes'm. I wanted the cat--and I got it, but I wouldn't have if Mr. Jack hadn't come to help me."
"Oh! So Mr. Jack--fought, too?"
"Well, he pulled the others off, and of course that helped me," explained David truthfully. "And then he took me home--he and Jill."
"Jill! Was she in it?"
"No, only her cat. They had tied a bag over its head and a tin can to its tail, and of course I couldn't let them do that. They were hurting her. And now, Lady of the Roses, won't you please play?"
For a moment Miss Holbrook did not speak. She was gazing at David with an odd look in her eyes. At last she drew a long sigh.
"David, you are the--the LIMIT!" she breathed, as she rose and seated herself at the harp.
David was manifestly delighted with her playing, and begged for more when she had finished; but Miss Holbrook shook her head. She seemed to have grown suddenly restless, and she moved about the room calling David's attention to something new each moment. Then, very abruptly, she suggested that they go upstairs. From room to room she hurried the boy, scarcely listening to his ardent comments, or answering his still more ardent questions. Not until they reached the highest tower room, indeed, did she sink wearily into a chair, and seem for a moment at rest.
David looked about him in surprise. Even his untrained eye could see that he had entered a different world. There were no sumptuous rugs, no silken hangings; no mirrors, no snowflake curtains. There were books, to be sure, but besides those there were
It was the same story, told as David had told it to Jack and Jill a few days before, only this time David's eyes were roving admiringly all about the room, resting oftenest on the harp so near him.
"Did that make the music that I heard?" he asked eagerly, as soon as Miss Holbrook's questions gave him opportunity. "It's got strings."
"Yes. I was playing when you came in. I saw you enter the window. Really, David, are you in the habit of walking into people's houses like this? It is most disconcerting--to their owners."
"Yes--no--well, sometimes." David's eyes were still on the harp. "Lady of the Roses, won't you please play again--on that?"
"David, you are incorrigible! Why did you come into my house like this?"
"The music said 'come'; and the towers, too. You see, I KNOW the towers."
"You KNOW them!"
"Yes. I can see them from so many places, and I always watch for them. They show best of anywhere, though, from Jack and Jill's. And now won't you play?"
Miss Holbrook had almost risen to her feet when she turned abruptly.
"From--where?" she asked.
"From Jack and Jill's--the House that Jack Built, you know."
"You mean--Mr. John Gurnsey's house?" A deeper color had come into Miss Holbrook's cheeks.
"Yes. Over there at the top of the little hill across the brook, you know. You can't see THEIR house from here, but from over there we can see the towers finely, and the little window--Oh, Lady of the Roses," he broke off excitedly, at the new thought that had come to him, "if we, now, were in that little window, we COULD see their house. Let's go up. Can't we?"
Explicit as this was, Miss Holbrook evidently did not hear, or at least did not understand, this request. She settled back on the divan, indeed, almost determinedly. Her cheeks were very red now.
"And do you know--this Mr. Jack?" she asked lightly.
"Yes, and Jill, too. Don't you? I like them, too. DO you know them?"
Again Miss Holbrook ignored the question put to her. "And did you walk into their house, unannounced and uninvited, like this?" she queried.
"No. He asked me. You see he wanted to get off some of the dirt and blood before other folks saw me."
"The dirt and--and--why, David, what do you mean? What was it--an accident?"
David frowned and reflected a moment.
"No. I did it on purpose. I HAD to, you see," he finally elucidated. "But there were six of them, and I got the worst of it."
"David!" Miss Holbrook's voice was horrified. "You don't mean--a fight!"
"Yes'm. I wanted the cat--and I got it, but I wouldn't have if Mr. Jack hadn't come to help me."
"Oh! So Mr. Jack--fought, too?"
"Well, he pulled the others off, and of course that helped me," explained David truthfully. "And then he took me home--he and Jill."
"Jill! Was she in it?"
"No, only her cat. They had tied a bag over its head and a tin can to its tail, and of course I couldn't let them do that. They were hurting her. And now, Lady of the Roses, won't you please play?"
For a moment Miss Holbrook did not speak. She was gazing at David with an odd look in her eyes. At last she drew a long sigh.
"David, you are the--the LIMIT!" she breathed, as she rose and seated herself at the harp.
David was manifestly delighted with her playing, and begged for more when she had finished; but Miss Holbrook shook her head. She seemed to have grown suddenly restless, and she moved about the room calling David's attention to something new each moment. Then, very abruptly, she suggested that they go upstairs. From room to room she hurried the boy, scarcely listening to his ardent comments, or answering his still more ardent questions. Not until they reached the highest tower room, indeed, did she sink wearily into a chair, and seem for a moment at rest.
David looked about him in surprise. Even his untrained eye could see that he had entered a different world. There were no sumptuous rugs, no silken hangings; no mirrors, no snowflake curtains. There were books, to be sure, but besides those there were