Letty and the Twins

by Emerson Hough

  CHAPTER IX

  HAPPY DAYS

  The arrival of Letty at Sunnycrest was the herald of many happy days. Ofcourse Mrs. Hartwell-Jones gave grandmother all the particulars of herinterview with Mrs. Drake, but the mere fact that Letty was theresatisfied the twins; they carried her off to the orchard, completelycontented at the new turn events had taken.

  “Here’s where we play fairies,” said Jane, leading the way to theorchard. “This is Titania’s throne—this mound with the grapevine twistedinto a seat. Kit made it for me. Isn’t he clever? He plays with me, too;sometimes he’s Oberon and sometimes he’s Puck. He’s funniest when he’sPuck.”

  “I said something to Bill Carpenter about Puck to-day, and he thought Imeant a funny paper,” exclaimed Christopher scornfully. “Just fancy notknowing about Puck!”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know,” said Letty shyly, her face getting very redat the thought of these children knowing so much more than she did. “Washe a fairy?”

  “Oh, yes, and there’s a play about him in the house. Will you read usthe story?”

  “Some time,” replied Letty hesitatingly, doubtful if she could read wellenough. She had not progressed very much in her lessons during thesepast three years.

  “Do you know any stories?” asked Jane, settling herself comfortably uponTitania’a throne.

  “I—I make up stories sometimes to myself and—and songs.”

  “Oh, do you sing?” put in Christopher. “What sort of songs? Sing us one,that’s a good girl.”

  “I only know two or three songs with tunes to them. I’ll sing them foryou some time, but not now. I must go see if Mrs. Hartwell-Jones needsme.”

  “Everything Mrs. Drake could tell me was satisfactory,” Mrs.Hartwell-Jones was saying to grandmother. “Letty’s mother, it seems,must have been a very unusual woman, a ‘real lady’ Mrs. Drake calledher.”

  “I remember my daughter-in-law said the same thing,” put in grandmother.

  “The son was fond of his little sister but careless of her and too fondof his own good times. The Drakes have kept her on with them since herbrother’s death out of pure kindness of heart. Mrs. Drake said shethought of trying to get Letty a place as nursemaid when they went backto the city; she is so fond of children and so patient and good to Mrs.Drake’s baby. You should have seen how Letty cried and hugged that babywhen we came away.”

  “How sad it would have been,” said grandmother, “to have cast that poorchild upon the world at her age.”

  “What a mercy it is that your dear little Janey gave me my idea. In thepast I have done what I could for charity, as every one does; that is, Ihave given sums of money to different hospitals and all that. But I havealways wanted to have some personal work to do, and now I have it, inbringing up this poor orphaned child.”

  “And you will grow fond of her, too,” added grandmother. “She has such asweet face and such nice, thoughtful ways.”

  “I think I am fond of her already; fond and interested.”

  “Have you any plans?”

  “I suppose I shall send her to boarding-school in the autumn. But thepoor child is woefully behind her years in knowledge. I shall write tothe city for books and set her a daily task at once.

  “And now about my visit to you, dear Mrs. Baker. It is very kind of youto take Letty in as well as me, and those great ponies too. But I mustnot impose upon your hospitality too long. As soon as arrangements canbe made, Letty and I must return to the village. Now that I have awilling pair of little feet to wait upon me and run my errands I shallget on nicely. We stopped on the way home this afternoon at Mr. Parsons’and bespoke a room for Letty. Mr. Parsons thinks he can make room forthe ponies in his stable.”

  “We shall be very sorry to see you go,” replied Mrs. Baker regretfully,“but I dare say you will feel freer and more undisturbed in your ownrooms. The children will miss you.”

  “I hope they will come in to see me often—every day, if they wish. Weshall have little tea-parties in my sitting-room or down under thetrees. And I trust you will come too, to drink tea with me.”

  So matters were arranged; much to the children’s disappointment atfirst, but when they understood the extent of Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’sinvitations to them, they were frankly delighted. They did not like theidea of losing Letty and the ponies, but the prospect of almost dailytea-parties made them look forward almost with eagerness to the time ofMrs. Hartwell-Jones’s return to her own rooms in the village.

  Jane was filled with rapture at the idea of more fairy plays, for Lettyhad entered into the game of dolls as eagerly and interestedly as Janeherself, her vivid imagination making the dainty waxen creatures seemall but alive. Christopher, for his part, rejoiced secretly over thechances these visits promised of going to the village and continuing hisintimacy with Billy Carpenter.

  Billy and half a dozen other village boys were trying to get up abaseball nine, and Christopher and Jo Perkins had both been invited tojoin. Billy Carpenter came out to Sunnycrest nearly every afternoon onhis bicycle, and he and Jo Perkins and Christopher had great timespracticing pitching and batting down in the long meadow.

  Grandmother looked on at this new friendship of Christopher’s with somesurprise and a little uneasiness. Until the present time, the twins hadbeen inseparable, sharing their pleasures and enjoying the same games.Jane was hurt sometimes by Christopher’s desertion, but she was too busyand happy to feel badly for long, and after Letty came she was quitereconciled to Christopher’s new friends.

  Letty was a delightful playfellow, always ready for whatever game Janewas pleased to suggest, and as Mrs. Hartwell-Jones demanded very littleof her new companion’s time, she was able to devote herself to Jane.Every morning Letty drove Mrs. Hartwell-Jones out in the pony carriage,Jane and Christopher taking turns in the little seat behind; then therewas an hour’s work over arithmetic and reading. After that the twolittle girls might amuse themselves as they pleased.

  Huldah enjoyed having them in the kitchen. Letty soon proved to be moreof a helper than Jane herself, and was so genuinely interested in theart of cooking that Huldah good-naturedly offered to give her a fewpractical lessons.

  It was while these cooking lessons were going on that Jane generallywrote her letters to her mother. It was a positive rule that the twinswere to write either to their father or mother at least once a week. Itmay sound hard to say that this had to be made a rule but if you, mydears, are like most children, you will understand how difficult it isto find time to write letters even to those you love best in the world.But Jane rather liked it when she got started—if there was some one athand to help with the spelling and the letters need not be long. Beforesailing on the big steamer, Mrs. Baker, Jr., had given each of herchildren a little writing-case containing paper, envelopes, a box forpens and pencils, a tiny compartment for stamps and an ink-bottle, allcomplete. It was the first time Jane had ever been allowed to write withink, and that added to the importance of her weekly letter-writing.

  So while Huldah and Letty talked busily over recipes—“three cups ofsifted flour; the whites of four eggs beaten stiff; two eventeaspoonfuls of baking-powder” and other mysteries, Jane toiled awayover her foreign correspondence. Jane loved her mother dearly and missedher—at times—more than any one guessed. As it was her joy when they wereall at home to pour out into mother’s sympathetic ears all the littledetails of each day’s happiness, so now she told, in shorter form butwith as faithful accuracy, the events of Sunnycrest. Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’saccident, the finding of her by the twins and her coming to Sunnycrest,had all been told in a previous letter. Now there was the account ofthe circus and the finding of Letty to relate, and when the crooked,blotty little letter reached Mrs. Christopher Baker, Jr., in Berlin, Iam sure she was touched by the story of the orphaned circus girl whohad been given a home by a kind, generous woman. And, mother-like, herheart must have glowed with pride at the thought that her littlegirl’s sympathy and love for a fellow creature had spoken the wordwhich
brought Letty a reward for her act of heroism long ago.

  Letty was supremely happy. She was hardly old enough to realize all thatshe had been saved from, but the joy of being well fed and cared forfilled her cup of happiness to overflowing. This change in hercircumstances did not make the child selfish and lazy, as it might haveaffected some natures, easily spoiled by comfort; but more eager andwilling to serve those who had been so kind to her. Mrs. Hartwell-Jonesand grandmother agreed that there was no fear of being disappointed inLetty’s disposition, and the “lady who wrote books” found Mrs. Baker’sprophecy already coming true. She was growing fond of Letty.

  UNDER A LARGE TREE IN THE GARDEN]

  “I find myself looking forward quite eagerly to my return to the city inthe autumn,” she said to grandmother. “Letty will need some clothesbefore she goes to school, of course, and it will be such a pleasure tobuy them. It has been so long since I have had any one to buy clothesfor,” she added, the tears coming to her eyes. “I dare confess now, Mrs.Baker, how much I have envied you Janey and Kit this summer.”

  “They are dear children,” agreed grandmother with a sigh, “but they aregrowing up so fast! Until this year they were always ‘the children.’ NowJane is a girl and Kit a boy.” Grandmother paused a moment as if shewished to say something more, but she was afraid of boring her visitorby discussing the children too much and changed the subject.

  It happened that the afternoon of the day before that set for the returnof Letty and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones to the village was very hot, and allthe grown-ups had retired to their own rooms to lie down. The childrenwere told to stay quietly in the shade until the sun was lower, andLetty agreed to tell them stories. So they settled themselves under alarge tree in the garden close to the house and, as it happened, justunderneath Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s window.

  Letty began with “Jack the Giant Killer,” which she had read in one ofJane’s old books, but found that she was listened to with only politeinterest.

  “I think Jack ought to have saved the giant’s wife before he cut downthe beanstalk,” said Christopher disgustedly, when the story was ended,“after she had treated him so kindly and all. It was a shame to leaveher up there without any way of getting down.”

  “She was the fairy, you goose,” exclaimed Jane, “who first told Jackthat all the giant’s treasure belonged to his mother, and so she couldeasily get down, because fairies can go anywhere.”

  “Don’t you know any other stories, Letty?” asked Christopher. “Newones?”

  “Make up one!” urged Jane. “You know you said you did sometimes.”

  “But they aren’t really stories; I mean not long ones. They’re justlittle thoughts about the birds and flowers and things talking. But Iwill try to tell you a story I read once, that I love dearly. It was astory in a magazine that a girl lent me at school, and I loved it sothat I read it over and over again. I think I know it by heart and I’lltell it to you if you think it will interest you. It’s not exactly aboy’s story,” she added apologetically, looking at Christopher.

  “Oh, never mind, fire away,” answered Christopher grandly.

  Christopher was very comfortable, sprawled on his back in the shade, andwas ready to be amused by anything except a nursery tale.

  “Well, then, here is the story. It is called ‘Thistledown.’”

  “‘Thistledown,’” repeated Christopher, “that’s a funny name.”

  “Thistledown was the fairy’s name, and you’ll see what he got for beingnaughty and mischievous. Well——”

  “Before you begin, Letty,” broke in Jane, “please make Kit promise onething—that he won’t interrupt.”

  “Huh, I’d like to know who was the first to interrupt,” mockedChristopher.

  “I didn’t interrupt. The story hadn’t begun yet. Make him promise,Letty, do.”

  “I don’t see why I have to promise.”

  “Because it spoils a story so, Kit. Please promise. Letty’s going torecite the story, just as we do our poetry at school, and she mightforget something if she had to stop in the middle. Besides, explanationscut up a story so. Come on, say you won’t interrupt, like a good boy. Iknow you won’t if you only promise.”

  “Well, I’ll not interrupt if you don’t,” conceded Christopher. “Go on,Letty, let’s hear what happened to Thistledown.”