by Keineth(Lit)
"Yes, dear. I think it may be a year."
"Daddy--" began Keineth, then stopped short to hide her face. Father
must not see her cry!
"I'll make a little picture for you, dear. This country of ours is like
a great big house. It's like all the homes all over the United States
put into one. And it must be tended just as we'd tend our own little
home--it must be kept in repair. It must be kept clean and have pretty
spots, just like Madame Henri's geraniums! And it must be guarded, too,
from those who would break in and steal what belongs in the home--or
tear it down and make a ruin of it! And it must know its neighbors and
work with them to keep everything peaceful and tidy about the whole
street of nations! Don't you remember how I had to argue with Signora
Ferocci to make her clean up her back alley?"
They both laughed together over the recollection of their efforts to
persuade their next-door neighbor of the joys of cleanliness!
"Every person, big and small, should do his part toward the
home-keeping of this big land of ours. And I have been asked to do a
service. Soldiers can't do it all, my dear--only a very small part of
it! There are a great many others--men like myself--who are going out
over the world to work for the Stars and Stripes. And when I have been
asked to go on a mission for our country that is very important, even
though it takes me very far and keeps me away a very long time, I am
sure my loyal little American girl will be the first to bid me go!"
Keineth's eyes were quite dry now and were very bright. She sat up very
straight. She had entirely forgotten herself.
"Will you wear a uniform, Daddy?"
"Oh, dear me, no--my work is not of that sort, In fact, I must go about
in the quietest manner possible. I cannot even tell my little girl
where I am going."
"You mean it's a secret?" the child cried.
"Yes, until I return. I must ask you to tell no one that I have gone
for the government. We may fail--the newspapers must not know yet.
Everyone must think I am simply travelling."
Keineth was silent and perplexed. It did not occur to her to ask her
father why she could not go with him. He had often gone away before and
she had always stayed in the old house with Tante. But it had never
been for a whole year!
Suddenly she cried out: "I'll be very brave, but--oh, Daddy!"
He laughed, although he held her very close.
"Do you think, my dear, I would go away until I felt very certain that
you were going to be happy? I'm not sure how well you'd like it at Aunt
Josephine's--it would be very different. Still--you'd have that French
maid of hers for a nurse and go out with her and Fido for his walk and
ride in the yellow motor and have all kinds of frilled dresses and
feathered hats--" He was imitating Aunt Josephine's voice in a very
funny manner that made Keineth laugh.
Keineth thought very quickly of all the things she loved to do that she
knew Aunt Josephine would not allow her to do, but she did not want to
speak of them, for it might make her Daddy unhappy. Her father went on,
more seriously:
"But I have another plan. I will tell you about It and you may choose
between that and Aunt Josephine's." (Keineth suddenly felt very grown
up.) "Coming up from Washington I ran into Mr. William Lee, an old
friend of mine--a man I knew in college. I used to think the world of
him. I hadn't seen him for fifteen years! He lives in the western part
of the state. I knew Mrs. Lee, too,--she was a friend of your mother's
and they were very fond of one another. We talked for a long time over
old times. He showed me kodak pictures of his children--he has four. Do
you know what I thought when I looked at them?"
"What, Daddy?"
"That I was cheating my little girl out of a great deal that every
child has a right to--the pure joy of giving. When I looked at those
youngsters of his--husky, bare-armed, round-cheeked children, I knew
they were getting a lot of happiness you'd never know in this little
corner of ours--the kind of happiness you can only have when you are
young." Keineth was puzzled. "What do you mean, Daddy?"
"Oh, running, jumping, swimming--tennis--baseball! Why, the knowing
other children well--even the quarrelling," he stopped, frowning. "I
had it all when I was little and here I am cheating you. Aunt Josephine
is right when she says I'm not fair to you--but I don't think you'd get
it even with her!"
"But I don't know anything about all those things, Daddy."
"That's just it! You can learn, though. I told Mr. Lee that I had to go
away, and about you, and he asked me if I wouldn't let you go to them
for the year. They have a summer home on the shore of Lake Erie and
almost live out-of-doors. I said no at first--it seemed too much to ask
of them, but he persisted and wouldn't take no for an answer. He is
coming here to-night to talk it over. I think now--it might be the
thing to do. Mrs. Lee loved your mother very, very dearly, and I know
would be very good to you."
He gently lifted her down from off his knee, which meant that he had
work to do and that Keineth must leave the room. She sought out Tante
upstairs. The good woman had closed her last box and was dressed ready
to start on her long trip, although the boat would not leave until the
next day. She was knitting, so Keineth took a book and sat near the
window pretending to read. Her eyes wandered off the page and her poor
little mind was busy at work trying to decide which she would dislike
the least--living with Aunt Josephine and walking with Fido and the
French maid and going to a strange camp and a strange school, or going
off to a strange place and living among strange people and playing
strange games! She wanted dreadfully to cry, but Tante was so quiet and
so miserable, and Daddy was so serious that she could not add in any
way to what seemed to trouble them.
So--although Francesca, the little Italian singer, was skipping rope on
the pavement below the window, and a robin was calling lustily to its
mate in a nearby horse-chestnut tree, and a vender was peddling his
wares down the street in a voice that sounded like a slow-pealing bell,
poor Keineth felt as if she could never be really happy again! That
night Daddy and Keineth went uptown for dinner. In one of the hotels
they met Mr. Lee. Keineth's heart was pounding with dread beneath her
neat serge dress and she was almost afraid to look at the man. But when
he took her hand in his and spoke in a kindly voice, she ventured a
timid glance and saw a big man, taller and heavier than her father,
with a jolly smile and eyes that laughed from under their shaggy
eyebrows. Then she felt that she liked him--and the more because he had
such an affectionate way of laying his hand on her father's shoulder.
While they talked together Mr. Lee watched her very closely. Once he
said to her father:
"My wife will love the little girl--she is so like her mother!" There
had been a long silence the
n, and Keineth had seen the look in her
father's eyes that meant his thoughts were back in the past. Later Mr.
Lee had added: "Why, John--you won't know the child after a summer with
us--those cheeks will all be roses and her little body plump. And how
the kiddies will love her!"
Keineth had been shown the kodak pictures and had studied them closely.
The very big girl was Barbara, who was seventeen. The boy was Billy,
aged fourteen. Peggy was Keineth's age--twelve, and the little one,
Alice, was eight. They all wore middy blouses in the picture and Peggy
and Alice were barefooted. Keineth thought, as she looked at their
laughing faces, that they were very unlike any children she had ever
seen anywhere.
They took Mr. Lee to their home. Keineth played on the piano for
them--not her own fairy things, but a simple little piece she had
learned with much precision from Madame Henri. Then she and Tante went
upstairs. Daddy had whispered to her as she kissed him good-night:
"You must decide yourself, dear!"
Keineth had thought that when she was quite alone in her bedroom she
would cry, for then it would disturb no one and she really had a great
deal to cry about. But Madame Henri lingered a long time by her bed,
standing close to it with a very white face. Finally she knelt beside
it and laid her cheek against Keineth's hands. Keineth felt hot tears
which surprised her, for she did not know that Tante knew how to cry.
Then Tante began to pray--a queer sort of prayer, all broken: "Oh, God,
oh, God, keep this little girl safe from the things that hurt! Keep all
the little ones! Why should they suffer? Where is your mercy?" Then she
said a great deal in French so fast that Keineth could not understand
her and finally, sobbing violently, she rushed out of the room, leaving
Keineth very disturbed. She thought that poor Tante must love her very
much and she supposed the prayer was for the little children in Europe
who were starving, as well as for her--Keineth Randolph! Madame Henri's
good heart so moved her that she jumped out of bed to kneel beside it
and add what she had forgotten in her concern over herself!
"God bless dear, dear Tante and keep her safe!"
Then, feeling very excited, Keineth went to sleep without crying and
dreamed of running barefooted with Peggy through fields all white with
daisies, while in the distance at a fence like the rail fences in
pictures, stood Aunt Josephine's awful French maid with Fido under her
arm, screaming at her in French.
So vivid seemed the dream that it awakened Keineth. She listened for a
moment. She could hear the click of her father's typewriter. She
pressed the button that lighted her bed lamp, found her slippers and
stole noiselessly downstairs. Never in her whole life had she disturbed
her Daddy when he was writing, but now she did not even rap--she pushed
the door open and ran to him.
"Daddy, Daddy--" she cried as though still pursued by the screaming
French maid. "Please--I'd rather go to the Lee's!"
CHAPTER III
OVERLOOK
"The next station is Fairview, Keineth--watch out for the kiddies,"
said Mr. Lee, rising from the car seat.
Keineth had been sitting for a half hour with her nose flattened
against the car window, not seeing at all the fields and farmhouses
that flew past her, but trying to picture what Peggy would be like!
Keineth was very excited and a little tired from the night in the
sleeper; she was fighting back the thought that she would not see Daddy
for a long, long time. Daddy had gone with them to the station the
night before, and had helped her undress in the queer little shelf he
called a berth and had himself pulled the blankets close around her
chin and kissed her again and again.
"Little soldier--right face," he whispered--and Keineth knew that he
meant she should be very brave over it all. Then he had hurried off the
train, for the conductor was shouting: "All aboard----" and Keineth,
peeping from under her curtain for a last look, had seen his tall
figure go down the dimly-lighted platform.
The engine whistled and slowed down. Keineth took up the new bag which
had been Aunt Josephine's present to her, and followed Mr. Lee to the
door. Around the corner of his arm she saw a freckled-faced boy running
close to the car step, and beyond him two little girls.
The taller of the two must, of course, be Peggy! Keineth saw a
bob-headed, slim child of about her own height, brown as a berry.
"Dad--Dad," they cried, running forward as Mr. Lee stepped down from
the train almost strangled in Billy's hug. In their joy at seeing their
father the girls did not notice Keineth, who stood shyly back, wishing
the ground would open and swallow her up.
But the ground under the station platform was unusually solid! In a
moment Keineth felt three pairs of eyes upon her as Mr. Lee turned and
said:
"Here is the little stranger I have brought with me."
"Hello," said Peggy, smiling. Alice smiled, too, but hung back a
little, and Billy swept a critical glance over Keineth's city-clad
little figure. Mr. Lee, holding Alice's hand in his, was walking toward
an automobile in which sat the eldest daughter.
"I'm awfully glad you came," began Peggy as the children followed.
"It'll be such fun!"
"Is this Keineth?" cried the girl in the automobile, jumping out to
greet her father. Keineth had pictured Barbara as quite a young
lady--she had always thought seventeen very old--but Barbara was
dressed in a blue skirt and a middy blouse like Peggy's and wore her
hair in a long, thick braid. She had her father's kind eyes and the
friendliness of their glance warmed poor little Keineth's homesick
soul. She gave the child a little pat on the shoulder.
"We're just awfully glad you're here," she said, taking Keineth's bag.
Then, to her father: "We didn't think Genevieve would run! She's been
acting awful--but we just made her crawl up here to meet you."
"Genevieve's the name of the automobile," giggled Peggy as the smaller
girls cuddled into the back seat. Billy rode on the running board and
Barbara took the steering wheel.
"Mother's fine," Barbara was saying while, at the same time, Billy was
pouring into his father's ear a great deal of information concerning
his wireless. Peggy in breathless, excited words was pointing out to
the bewildered Keineth the sights of Fairview.
Genevieve, with many puffs and snorts and queer noises from under her
bonnet, crawled gallantly along the smooth road, up a hill, turned in
between two stone posts and stopped. Down the steps ran a woman who
seemed to Keineth only a little older than Barbara, She kissed Mr. Lee,
then, pushing the eager children aside, turned to Keineth.
"Here she is, mother," called out Peggy, drawing Keineth forward.
Mrs. Lee took Keineth in her arms and held her very close for a moment.
When she released her she put her hand under Keineth's chin to lift her
face.
"It's like seeing your mother agai
n," she laughed, although there was a
queer little catch in her voice.
"You'll be Peggy's twin," she added, starting up the steps. "Bring in
their bags, Billy. Barb--let's give Dad a nice hot cup of coffee!
Peggy, you make Keineth perfectly at home."
Keineth took off her hat and coat. Very willingly Peggy took her in
charge.
"I'll show you the garden," she said.
"Let's go down to the beach!" cried Alice, following.
"Do you want to see my wireless set?" invited Billy.
"Billy thinks that's the only interesting thing about Overlook!"
"Wait a moment, children," suggested Mrs. Lee to them, "one thing at a
time! Keineth is tired, perhaps. Take her upstairs, Peggy, and let her
slip on a blouse and your old serge bloomers--then go outside and
play!"
Overlook really wasn't like a house at all--Keineth had never seen
anything quite like it. There was one big living-room with a veranda
running around it and with big doors opening from three sides upon the
veranda so that the room itself was just like out-of-doors. One end of
the veranda was enclosed in glass and used as a dining-room. Flowers in
boxes were on the sills of the windows and over them the sun streamed
through chintz-curtained windows. Upstairs were two rooms over the
living-rooms, and opening from these were screened sleeping porches,
with rows of little cots. Peggy explained that the rooms were used as
dressing-rooms and that each one of the family had a little chest of
drawers for their own clothes and that mother had brought the oak one
in the corner out from town for Keineth's use.