The Major [92]
in a pained voice, "does Tom matter much or any one else in the midst of all this glory?"
"I think so, Papa," said Jane firmly. "You matter, don't you? Everybody matters. Besides, we were told not to look until we reached the top."
"Well, Jane, you are an incorrigible Philistine," said her father, "and I yield. Tom's father is a broker, and Tom is by way of being a broker too, though I doubt if he is broking very much. May I dismiss Tom for a few minutes now?" Again they all laughed.
"I don't see what you are all laughing at," said Jane, and lapsed into silence.
"Now then," cried Nora, "in three minutes."
At the top of the long, gently rising hill the motor pulled up, purring softly. They all stood up and gazed around about them. "Look back," commanded Nora. "It is fifty miles to that prairie rim there." From their feet the prairie spread itself in long softly undulating billows to the eastern horizon, the hollows in shadow, the crests tipped with the silver of the rising moon. Here and there wreaths of mist lay just above the shadow lines, giving a ghostly appearance to the hills. "Now look this way," said Nora, and they turned about. Away to the west in a flood of silvery light the prairie climbed by abrupt steps, mounting ever higher over broken rocky points and rocky ledges, over bluffs of poplar and dark masses of pine and spruce, up to the grey, bare sides of the mighty mountains, up to their snow peaks gleaming elusive, translucent, faintly discernible against the blue of the sky. In the valley immediately at their feet the waters of the little lake gleamed like a polished shield set in a frame of ebony. "That's our lake," said Nora, "with our house just behind it in the woods. And nearer in that little bluff is Mrs. Waring-Gaunts home."
"Papa," said Jane softly, "we must not keep Mrs. Waring-Gaunt."
"Thank you, Jane," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "I fear I must go on."
"Don't you love it?" inquired Larry enthusiastically and with a touch of impatience in his voice.
"Oh, yes, it is lovely," said Jane.
"But, Jane, you will not get wild over it," said Larry.
"Get wild? I love it, really I do. But why should I get wild over it. Oh, I know you think, and Papa thinks, that I am awful. He says I have no poetry in me, and perhaps he is right."
In a few minutes the car stopped at the door of Mrs. Waring-Gaunt's house. "I shall just run in for a moment," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "Kathleen will want to see you, and perhaps will go home with you. I shall send her out."
Out from the vine-shadowed porch into the white light came Kathleen, stood a moment searching the faces of the party, then moved toward Dr. Brown with her hands eagerly stretched out. "Oh, Dr. Brown," she cried, "it is so good to see you here."
"But my dear girl, my dear girl, how wonderful you look! Why, you have actually grown more beautiful than when we saw you last!"
"Oh, thank you, Dr. Brown. And there is Jane," cried Kathleen, running around to the other side of the car. "It is so lovely to see you and so good of you to come to us," she continued, putting her arms around Jane and kissing her.
"I wanted to come, you know," said Jane.
"Yes, it is Jane's fault entirely," said Dr. Brown. "I confess I hesitated to impose two people upon you this way, willy-nilly. But Jane would have it that you would be glad to have us."
"And as usual Jane was right," said Larry with emphasis.
"Yes," said Kathleen, "Jane was right. Jane is a dear to think that way about us. Dr. Brown," continued Kathleen with a note of anxiety in her voice, "Mrs. Waring-Gaunt wondered if you would mind coming in to see her brother. He was wounded with a gunshot in the arm about ten days ago. Dr. Hudson, who was one of your pupils, I believe, said he would like to have you see him when you came. I wonder if you would mind coming in now." Kathleen's face was flushed and her words flowed in a hurried stream.
"Not at all, not at all," answered the doctor, rising hastily from the motor and going in with Kathleen.
"I think so, Papa," said Jane firmly. "You matter, don't you? Everybody matters. Besides, we were told not to look until we reached the top."
"Well, Jane, you are an incorrigible Philistine," said her father, "and I yield. Tom's father is a broker, and Tom is by way of being a broker too, though I doubt if he is broking very much. May I dismiss Tom for a few minutes now?" Again they all laughed.
"I don't see what you are all laughing at," said Jane, and lapsed into silence.
"Now then," cried Nora, "in three minutes."
At the top of the long, gently rising hill the motor pulled up, purring softly. They all stood up and gazed around about them. "Look back," commanded Nora. "It is fifty miles to that prairie rim there." From their feet the prairie spread itself in long softly undulating billows to the eastern horizon, the hollows in shadow, the crests tipped with the silver of the rising moon. Here and there wreaths of mist lay just above the shadow lines, giving a ghostly appearance to the hills. "Now look this way," said Nora, and they turned about. Away to the west in a flood of silvery light the prairie climbed by abrupt steps, mounting ever higher over broken rocky points and rocky ledges, over bluffs of poplar and dark masses of pine and spruce, up to the grey, bare sides of the mighty mountains, up to their snow peaks gleaming elusive, translucent, faintly discernible against the blue of the sky. In the valley immediately at their feet the waters of the little lake gleamed like a polished shield set in a frame of ebony. "That's our lake," said Nora, "with our house just behind it in the woods. And nearer in that little bluff is Mrs. Waring-Gaunts home."
"Papa," said Jane softly, "we must not keep Mrs. Waring-Gaunt."
"Thank you, Jane," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "I fear I must go on."
"Don't you love it?" inquired Larry enthusiastically and with a touch of impatience in his voice.
"Oh, yes, it is lovely," said Jane.
"But, Jane, you will not get wild over it," said Larry.
"Get wild? I love it, really I do. But why should I get wild over it. Oh, I know you think, and Papa thinks, that I am awful. He says I have no poetry in me, and perhaps he is right."
In a few minutes the car stopped at the door of Mrs. Waring-Gaunt's house. "I shall just run in for a moment," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "Kathleen will want to see you, and perhaps will go home with you. I shall send her out."
Out from the vine-shadowed porch into the white light came Kathleen, stood a moment searching the faces of the party, then moved toward Dr. Brown with her hands eagerly stretched out. "Oh, Dr. Brown," she cried, "it is so good to see you here."
"But my dear girl, my dear girl, how wonderful you look! Why, you have actually grown more beautiful than when we saw you last!"
"Oh, thank you, Dr. Brown. And there is Jane," cried Kathleen, running around to the other side of the car. "It is so lovely to see you and so good of you to come to us," she continued, putting her arms around Jane and kissing her.
"I wanted to come, you know," said Jane.
"Yes, it is Jane's fault entirely," said Dr. Brown. "I confess I hesitated to impose two people upon you this way, willy-nilly. But Jane would have it that you would be glad to have us."
"And as usual Jane was right," said Larry with emphasis.
"Yes," said Kathleen, "Jane was right. Jane is a dear to think that way about us. Dr. Brown," continued Kathleen with a note of anxiety in her voice, "Mrs. Waring-Gaunt wondered if you would mind coming in to see her brother. He was wounded with a gunshot in the arm about ten days ago. Dr. Hudson, who was one of your pupils, I believe, said he would like to have you see him when you came. I wonder if you would mind coming in now." Kathleen's face was flushed and her words flowed in a hurried stream.
"Not at all, not at all," answered the doctor, rising hastily from the motor and going in with Kathleen.