summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
-rw-r--r--.gitattributes3
-rw-r--r--8865-8.txt4256
-rw-r--r--8865-8.zipbin0 -> 74644 bytes
-rw-r--r--8865.txt4256
-rw-r--r--8865.zipbin0 -> 74619 bytes
-rw-r--r--LICENSE.txt11
-rw-r--r--README.md2
-rw-r--r--old/7msth10.txt4222
-rw-r--r--old/7msth10.zipbin0 -> 74076 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/8msth10.txt4222
-rw-r--r--old/8msth10.zipbin0 -> 74091 bytes
11 files changed, 16972 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/8865-8.txt b/8865-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..594d469
--- /dev/null
+++ b/8865-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4256 @@
+Project Gutenberg's Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings, by Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+Posting Date: August 5, 2012 [EBook #8865]
+Release Date: September, 2005
+First Posted: August 16, 2003
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+BY
+
+ANNIE HAMILTON DONNELL
+
+WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
+
+WILLIAM VAN DRESSER
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of
+Stefana's patient endeavors. FRONTISPIECE.]
+
+
+
+To MY HUSBAND
+
+WHO COULD WRITE SO MUCH
+
+BETTER A BOOK AND
+
+DEDICATE IT TO
+
+ME!
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's patient
+endeavors.
+
+"We've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly"
+
+"If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into a story like
+that"
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the window
+
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"_Well!"_
+
+The last utterance was Miss Theodosia Baxter's. She was a woman of few
+words at all times where few sufficed. One sufficed now. The child on
+her front porch, with a still childlier child on the small area of her
+knees, was not a creature of few words, but now extreme surprise limited
+speech. She was stricken with brevity,--stricken is the word--to match
+Miss Theodosia's.
+
+Downward, upward, each gazed into the other's surprised face. The
+childlier child, jouncing pleasantly back and forth, viewed them both
+impartially.
+
+It was the child who regarded the situation, after a moment of mental
+adjustment, as humorous. She giggled softly.
+
+"Mercy gracious! How you surprised me' 'n' Elly Precious, an' me 'n'
+Elly Precious surprised you! I don't know which was the whichest! We
+came over to be shady just once more. We didn't s'pose you would come
+home till to-morrow, did we, Elly Precious?"
+
+"I came last night," Miss Theodosia replied with crispness. She stood in
+her doorway, apparently waiting for something which--apparently--was not
+to happen. The child and Elly Precious sat on in seeming calm.
+
+"Yes'm. Of course if you hadn't come, you wouldn't be standin' there
+lookin' at Elly Precious--isn't he a darlin' dear? Wouldn't you like to
+look at his toes?"
+
+It was Miss Theodosia Baxter's turn to say "Mercy gracious!" but she did
+not say it aloud. It was her turn, too, to see a bit of humor in the
+situation on her front porch.
+
+"Not--just now," she said rather hastily. She could not remember ever to
+have seen a baby's toes. "I've no doubt they are--are excellent toes."
+The word did not satisfy her, but the suitable adjective was not at
+hand.
+
+"Mercy gracious! That's a funny way to talk about toes! Elly Precious's
+are pink as anything--an' six--yes'm! I've made consid'able money out of
+his toes. Yes," with rising pride at the sight of Miss Theodosia's
+surprise, "'leven cents, so far. I only charged Lelia Fling a cent for
+two looks, because Lelia's baby's dead. I've got three cents out o' her;
+she says five of Elly Precious's remind her of her baby's toes. Isn't it
+funny you can't make boys pay to look at babies' toes, even when they's
+such a lot? Only just girls. Stefana says it's because girls are
+ungrown-up mothers. Mercy gracious! speakin' of Stefana an' mothers,
+reminds me--"
+
+The shrill little voice stopped with a suddenness that made the woman in
+the door fear for Elly Precious; it seemed that he must be jolted from
+his narrow perch.
+
+Miss Theodosia had wandered up and down the world for three years in be
+search of something to interest her, only to come home and find it here
+upon the upper step of her own front porch. She stepped from the doorway
+and sat down in one of the wicker rockers. She had plenty of time to be
+interested; there was really no haste for unpacking and settling back
+into her little country rut.
+
+"What about 'Stefana and mothers'?" she prodded gently. A cloud had
+settled on the child's vivid little face and threatened to overshade the
+childlier child, as well. "I suppose 'Stefana' is a Spanish person,
+isn't she?" The name had a definitely foreign sound.
+
+"Oh, no'm--just a United States. We're all United States. Mother named
+her; we've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly. Mother hated to
+call him Elihu, but there was Grandfather gettin' older an' older all
+the time, an' she dassen't wait till the next one. She put it off an'
+off with the other boys, Carruthers an' Gilpatrick--he's dead. She just
+couldn't name any of 'em Elihu, till Grandfather scared her, gettin' so
+old. She was afraid there wouldn't be time, an' there wasn't any to
+spare. Grandfather's dead now--she's thankful enough she didn't wait any
+longer. He was so pleased. He said he could depart this life easier,
+leavin' an Elihu Flagg behind him. An', anyway, Mother says Elly can
+call himself his middle name, if he'd ruther, when he's twenty-one--his
+middle name's Launcelot."
+
+Elihu Launcelot, at this juncture, toppled over against the little flat
+breast of his nurse, asleep--or in a swoon; Miss Theodosia had her
+fears. There seemed sufficient swooning cause.
+
+"Stefana," she prompted again, her interest advancing at a rapid pace,
+"and mothers--"
+
+"Stefana's our oldest. She's goin' to run us while Mother's away. She's
+got a job before her! All I can do is 'tend Elly Precious--we're all
+boys, but us. But, of course, runnin' the family isn't the real
+trouble--not what made Mother cry."
+
+Miss Theodosia sat forward in her chair.
+
+"What made Mother cry?" she asked. The child shifted her heavy burden
+the better to turn her head. She regarded the beautiful white lady
+gloomily.
+
+"You," she stated briefly.
+
+This time Miss Theodosia said it aloud and with a surprising ease, as if
+of long custom--"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean you're to blame; you can't help Aunt Sarah tumblin'
+down the cellar stairs an' Mother not bein' able to do you up."
+
+"Do me--up?"
+
+"Yes'm--white-wash you. Mother was sure you'd let her, an' we were goin'
+to send Carruthers to a deaf 'n' dumb school after you'd wore white
+clo'es enough. He isn't dumb, but he's deaf. He can't hear Elly Precious
+laugh--only yell. Mother heard that you always wore white dresses an'
+she most hugged herself--she hugged us. She said you'd prob'ly find out
+what a good white-washer she was an' let her white-wash you. But, now,
+Aunt Sarah's went an' fell down cellar."
+
+"Whitewash--whitewash?" queried Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Yes'm, you didn't think Mother was a washwoman, did you? Of course she
+could, but it doesn't pay's well. She only whitewashes--white clo'es,
+you know, dresses an' shirtwaists. She says it's her talent that the
+Lord's gave her, an' she's goin' to make it gain ten talents for
+Carruthers. But Aunt Sarah--"
+
+"Never mind Aunt Sarah. Unless--do you mean your mother has had to go
+away from home?"
+
+"Yes'm, to see to Aunt Sarah. They were twins when they were babies.
+Mother cried, because she said of course you'd have to be done up while
+she was gone, an' so she'd lost you. She said you'd been her bacon light
+ever since she heard you was comin' home an' wore so many white clo'es."
+
+The garrulous little voice might have run on indefinitely but for the
+abrupt appearance, here, of a slender girl in an all-enwrapping gingham
+apron. She came hurrying up Miss Theodosia's front walk.
+
+"Well, Evangeline Flagg, I hope you're blushing crimson scarlet
+red--helping yourself to folks's doorsteps that's got back from Europe!
+I hope--" but the newcomer got no further, for, quite suddenly, she
+found herself blushing crimson scarlet red, in the grip of a
+disconcerting thought.
+
+"I suppose it's just as bad to help yourself to doorsteps when folks
+aren't here as when they are," she said slowly, "but you mustn't blame
+Mother. She'd never've allowed Evangeline and Elly, if we'd had a single
+sol-i-ta-ry tree. Or been on the shady side. Or had a porch. Elly's been
+pindly, and Mother felt obliged to save his life. It's been terribly
+hot. Here, Evangeline Flagg, you give Elly here, an' you run home an'
+keep the soup-kettle from burning on. Don't you wait until it smells!
+I've got an errand to do here."
+
+The child, Evangeline, relinquished her burden and turned slowly away.
+But she halted at the foot of the steps.
+
+"This is Stefana," she introduced politely. "Stefana, you ain't _goin'
+to_? You look 'xactly as if you was. Mercy gracious!"
+
+[Illustration: "We've all got beautiful names except poor Elly."]
+
+"Yes," Stefana returned gravely, "I am. Now, you go. Remember the soup!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's interested gaze left the retreating little figure and
+came back to Stefana and Elly Precious. She was pleasantly aware of her
+own immaculate daintiness in her crisp white dress. Only Theodosia
+Baxter would have dreamed of arraying herself in white to unpack and
+settle. Her friends declared she made a fetich of her white raiment; it
+was a well-known fact among them that she was extremely "fussy" about
+its laundering.
+
+"One, two, three," counted the slender girl, over the baby's bald little
+head, "only three tucks, an' the lace not terribly full on the edges.
+I'm thankful there aren't any ruffles, but, there, I suppose there are
+on some o' the others, aren't there? I'll have to manage the ruffles. I
+mean, if--oh, I mean, won't you please let me do you up? Just till Aunt
+Sarah's bone knits--so to save you for Mother? I'll try so hard! If I
+don't, Charlotte Lovell will--she's the only other one. She's a
+beautiful washer and ironer, but none of her children are deaf, and she
+hasn't any, anyway. I didn't dare to come over and ask you, but I kept
+thinking of poor Mother and how she's been 'lotting on earning all that
+money. There, I've asked you--please don't answer till I've counted ten.
+When we were little, Mother always said for us to; it was safer. One,
+two, three--" she counted rapidly, then swung about facing Miss
+Theodosia. "You can say 'no,' now," she said, with a difficult little
+smile.
+
+Miss Theodosia had been, in a way, counting ten herself. She had had
+time to remember her very strict injunctions to those to whom she
+entrusted her beloved white gowns--to pull out the lace with careful
+fingers, not to iron it; to iron embroidered portions over many
+thicknesses of flannel, and never, never, never on the right side; to
+starch the dresses just enough and not too much. All these thoughts
+flashed through her mind while Stefana counted ten. But it was without
+accompaniment of injunctions that Miss Theodosia answered on that
+wistful little stroke of ten. In her soul she felt the futility of
+injunctions.
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Theodosia.
+
+Stefana whirled, at the risk of Elihu Launcelot.
+
+"Oh--oh, what? You mean I can do you up, honest? Starch you, and iron
+you, too--of course, I could wash you. Oh, if I could drop Elly Precious
+I'd get right up and dance!"
+
+"Give Elly Precious to me, and go ahead, my dear," said the White Lady
+with a smile.
+
+But Stefana shook her head. She was covertly studying the white dress
+once more. It was very white--she could detect no promising spots or
+creases, and she drew a sigh even in the midst of her rejoicing. If a
+person only sat on porches, in chairs, how often did white dresses need
+doing up? Miss Theodosia interpreted the sigh and look.
+
+"Oh, I've three of them rolled up in my trunk; aren't three enough to
+begin on? And shirtwaists--I'm sure I don't know how many of those. I'll
+go and get them now."
+
+In the hall she stopped at the mirror, jibing at the image confronting
+her. "You've done it this time, Theodosia Baxter! When you can't bear a
+wrinkle! But, there, don't look so scared--daughters inherit their
+mothers' talents, plenty of times. And you need only try it once, of
+course."
+
+After Stefana had gone away, doubly laden with clothes and bulky baby,
+Miss Theodosia remained on her porch. She found herself leaning over and
+parting her porch-vines, to get a glimpse of the little house next door.
+She had always loathed that little house with its barefaced poverties
+and uglinesses, and it had been a great relief to her to have it stand
+vacant in past years. She had left it vacant when she started upon her
+last globe-trotting. Now here it was teeming with life, and here she was
+aiding and abetting it! What new manner of Theodosia Baxter was this?
+
+"You'd better get up and globe-trot again, Woman, and not unpack," she
+uttered, with a lone woman's habit of talking to herself. "You were
+never made to live in a house like other people--to sit on porches and
+rock. And certainly, Theodosia Baxter, you were never made to live next
+to that little dry-goods box. It will turn you gray, poor thing." She
+felt a gentle pity for herself, then gentle wrath seized her. Why had
+she come home, anyway? Already she was lonely and restless. Why--could
+anybody tell her why--had she weakly yielded to two small girls? Her
+dear-beloved white dresses! And she could not go back on her
+promise--not on a Baxter promise! There was, indeed, the release of
+going away again, back to her globe-trotting--
+
+"I might write to Cornelia Dunlap," Miss Theodosia thought. "Maybe she
+is sorry she came home, too."
+
+Cornelia Dunlap had been her recent comrade of the road. They had
+traveled to many far places together. What would Cornelia say to that
+little conference of three--and a baby--on the front porch?
+
+"My dear," wrote Miss Theodosia, "you will think I have been swapped in
+my cradle since I left you! 'That is no fellow tramp of mine,' you will
+say, 'That woman being victimized by children in knee-high dresses!
+Theodosia Baxter nothing!'"--for Cornelia Dunlap in moments of surprise
+resorted sometimes to slang, which she claimed was a sturdy vehicle of
+speech. "You will set down your teacup hard," wrote on Miss
+Theodosia,--"I know you are drinking tea!--when I tell you the little
+story of the Whitewashing of Theodosia Baxter. But shall I tell it? Why
+expose Theodosia Baxter's weaknesses when hitherto she has posed as
+strong? Soberly, Cornelia, I am as much surprised at myself as you will
+be (oh, I shall tell it!). Do you remember your Mother Goose? The little
+astonished old lady who took a nap beside the road and woke to find her
+petticoats cut off at her knees? 'Oh, lawk-a-daisy me, can this be I!'
+cried she. I'm not sure those were just her words, but they will do. Oh,
+lawk-a-daisy me, can this be Theodosia Baxter! The Astonished Little Old
+Lady, if I remember my Mother Goose, resorted to the simple expedient of
+going home and letting her little dog decide if she were she. But I have
+no little dog.
+
+"They were so earnest to whitewash me, Cornelia! The whole scheme was
+such a plucky little one and Baxters, from the dawn of creation, have
+admired pluck. The lively, chatterbox-one was 'Evangeline' and the quiet
+one who should have been an Evangeline was what the other one ought to
+have been,--a 'Stefana,' suggestive of flashing, dark eyes under a lace
+mantilla, with ways to match the eyes. So does fate play her little
+jokes. The baby--but what do I know of babies or you know of babies? He
+had six toes and I might have seen them for nothing; so do we miss our
+opportunities. He was named for his grandfather just in time, but the
+name, my dear, the name! Elihu. Are you listening? _Elihu_! But they
+offered him the assuaging 'sop' of 'Launcelot' for a middle name, and
+what could a baby do? Babies are the little scapegoats of mistaken
+loyalties."
+
+Miss Theodosia was having a good time. Her sober mood had passed. She
+wrote on enjoyingly, describing the whole little episode to Cornelia
+Dunlap. The freshening of it in her memory was pleasant. Again she felt
+the tug of those eager little pleadings. She kept remembering other
+things about little Elihu Launcelot besides his name and his toes. She
+remembered how gravely he had looked at her, how tiny and soft his hands
+were.
+
+"That little box of a house next to mine, Cornelia,--I told you about
+it. Well, it's as full now as it has been empty, and a little fuller.
+Dear knows how many it holds! But it's sociable seeing the smoke come
+out of the chimney; _it's friendly_."
+
+She had not thought of it as sociable and friendly before. The thought
+seemed just to have come to her. She was quite cheerful-minded when she
+finished her letter to Cornelia Dunlap and neatly folded it. If she had
+but known, she was sorry for Cornelia who was not next door to a
+friendly little box.
+
+She made tea and sipped it, made golden toast and opened a
+foreign-looking box of some sort of jelly. While she ate slowly, she
+slowly made plans. No, she would not have a stay-all-the-time maid--yes,
+she would move her things into the room facing the next-door house.
+Until she got tired of watching the sociable thread of smoke, anyway.
+
+It had not occurred yet to Theodosia Baxter that she had not said a word
+to Cornelia Dunlap about going on their travels again. When it did
+occur, she suddenly laughed out aloud, but softly.
+
+"I forgot what I began that letter _for_! I never mentioned going away
+again! And now--I'm glad. Who wants to go off? 'East, west, hame's
+best.' Even a hame next door to a little dry-goods box."
+
+Of course there was the promise to let those funny kiddies whitewash
+her--
+
+"It's a Baxter promise; don't try to get out of it, Theodosia Baxter,"
+she said.
+
+The next noon she saw her dresses dangling from the neighboring
+clothesline. They were not successfully dangled; Miss Theodosia liked to
+see them hung with symmetry, all alike in a seemly row. The shirtwaists
+dangled also in unseemly attitudes. One hung by a single sleeve. But
+that was not all--a certain faint suggestion of something worse than
+lack of symmetry persisted in Miss Theodosia's mind. They had been
+especially travel-stained, soiled; they had still an air of soil and
+travel-stain. They didn't look clean!
+
+Miss Theodosia groaned. "It may be blueing streaks," she said, but there
+was little comfort in blueing streaks. She got her opera glasses and
+peered through them at her beloved dresses. Brought up at close range,
+they were certainly blue-streaked, and there was plain lack of the snowy
+whiteness her stern washing-creed demanded.
+
+At intervals, small figures issued from the house and circled about the
+clotheslines, inspecting their contents critically. Miss Theodosia saw
+one of them--it was the child of her doorstep--lay questionable hold (it
+must be questionable!) upon a delicate garment and examine a portion of
+it excitedly. She saw the child dart back to the house and again issue
+forth, dragging the slender young washerwoman. Together they examined.
+Miss Theodosia caught up her glasses and brought the little pair into
+the near field of her vision; she saw both anxious young faces. The face
+of Stefana was strained and careworn.
+
+Miss Theodosia was thirty-six years old, and all of the years had been
+comfortable, carefree ones. In the natural order of her pleasantly
+migratory, luxurious life, she had rarely come into close contact with
+careworn or strained faces; this contact through the small, clear lenses
+seemed startlingly close. Stefana's lean and anxious face, the child's
+baby-bent little back, like the back of an old woman--it was at these
+Miss Theodosia looked through her pearl glasses. She forgot to look at
+the garment the children examined so troubledly. Suddenly, Miss
+Theodosia Baxter--traveler, fortune-favored one--found herself as
+anxious for the success of Stefana's stout little project as the two
+young people within her field of view, but, suddenly and unaccountably,
+from a new motive. The slim, worn-looking little creature,--and that
+tinier, tired little creature--must not fail! The stout project should
+succeed!
+
+Stefana carried the disputed garment back into the house and rewashed
+it; it was dripping wet when she again dangled it beside the others.
+Several times during the afternoon this process was repeated, until, at
+nightfall, the entire wash dripped, rewashed and soggy. Miss Theodosia
+nodded her head approvingly; she had her reasons for being glad that the
+wash was to remain out overnight.
+
+It was a starless, moonless night--a night to prowl successfully about
+clotheslines.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled. The little dry-goods box full of children was a
+small, vague blur, a little darker than the darkness. The children slept
+the profound sleep of childhood and childhood's unbelonging toil. Sleep
+was smoothing Stefana's roughened little nerves with gentle hand and
+fortifying her courage for yet more strenuous toils to come.
+Evangeline's weary little arm--and tongue--were resting.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled softly, to avoid disturbing the little box-house.
+She had the guilty conscience of the prowler that sent her heart into
+her mouth at the crackling of a twig under her feet. She found herself
+listening, holding her breath in a small panic. No sound of wakened
+sleepers, but there must be no more twigs.
+
+"I must add a postscript to Cornelia Dunlap's letter," she thought.
+"This would make a thrilling wind-up! Cornelia would say, 'Lawk-a-daisy
+me, it _can't_ be Theodosia Baxter!' She wouldn't need any little dog."
+
+Safe in her own house once more, Miss Theodosia breathed a sigh of
+relief. Saved! But there was another trip yet to be made to that region
+behind the vague little blur of a box. It was too soon to be relieved.
+
+"What I've done once I can do twice," boasted Miss Theodosia, undaunted,
+though at the approach of her second prowling expedition, her courage
+waned unexpectedly. "I mean if I have a cup of tea--strong," she weakly
+appended to her boast. It would take her longer out there the second
+time. She really needed tea.
+
+Miss Theodosia retired at eleven, tired but contented. She even smiled
+at her sodden fingers--when had Miss Theodosia Baxter's fingers been
+sodden before!
+
+The next morning, the child and the childlier child appeared at her
+porch, where she rocked contentedly.
+
+"She's ironin' 'em!--Stefana's ironin' 'em! No, I can't sit down; she
+said not to. She's ironed one dress three times. It's funny how irons
+stick, isn't it? No, not funny--mercy gracious! You oughter see
+Stefana's cheeks, an' she's burnt both thumbs--I'm keepin' Elly Precious
+out o' the way, an' she's forbid Carruthers comin' in a step. She'll get
+'em ironed, Stefana will. You can't discourage Stefana! Last night I
+kind of thought you could, but the clo'es whitened out beautiful in the
+night. Stefana said it was the night air. There wasn't a single streak
+left this mornin'. We're goin' to keep your money in Mother's weddin'
+sugar-bowl, an' when she comes back, we're goin' to ask her if she don't
+want some sugar!"
+
+All day Stefana toiled and retoiled. It was night when she sent one of
+the children to Miss Theodosia with her day's work. The one who came was
+Carruthers, chatty and deaf. Miss Theodosia did not have to do any
+talking.
+
+"Stefana says there's some smooches, but the worst ones come under your
+arms an' where they's puckers. The wrinkles Stefana hopes you'll
+excuse--they'll air 'out, she expects. She was comin' over an' explain,
+herself, but she's gone to bed. Evangeline's gone, too, to keep the baby
+quiet. Stefana says you needn't pay as much's you expected to, 'count o'
+the smooches an' wrink--"
+
+"I always pay the same price for my dresses," Miss Theodosia said,
+forgetful of the boy's affliction. She put the money into the hard
+little palm of Carruthers and watched him scamper home with it. Miss
+Theodosia looked happy. She felt pleasant little tweaks at her
+heartstrings as if small grimy hands were ringing them, playing a tender
+little tune. Scorched, blundering young hands--Stefana's. The little
+tune rang plaintive in her ears. She had a vision of Stefana toiling
+over the ironing of her dresses and going to bed exhausted, when the
+toil was over. Miss Theodosia's eyes followed Carruther's retreating
+little figure till it reached the House of Little Children and
+disappeared from view. What had she, Theodosia Baxter, to do with houses
+of little children? Since when had they possessed attractions for
+her--held her tender, brooding gaze? What was she doing here now,
+gazing? Theodosia Baxter!
+
+Stefana had folded the dresses painstakingly in separate newspaper
+bundles and stacked them on Carruther's outstretched arms. They were
+stacked now on Miss Theodosia's porch. She picked them up and turned
+with them into the house.
+
+"I'll unfold them," she thought, "and shake them out. I must tell her to
+send them home without folding next time--or I can go and get them
+myself."
+
+Unpinning Stefana's many pins, she lifted out one of the dresses. It
+creaked starchily under her hands; it opened out before Miss Theodosia's
+horrified vision. She uttered a groan.
+
+Where, now, was that tender little heart-string tune?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Miss Theodosia saw pink. Near-anger surged up within her at this
+ruinous, this piteous result of Stefana's toil. The result dangled
+creaksomely from her hands, revealing new wrinkles and smooches and
+leprous patches of starch at every motion. What was in this bundle would
+be in the rest--there was no hope.
+
+In Theodosia Baxter's little girlhood, she had played there were two
+"'Dosies," a good one and a bad one. The Good 'Dosie was often away from
+home, but was sometimes apt to appear at unexpected moments, to the
+embarrassment of the Bad 'Dosie. Stamp her foot as she would, Bad 'Dosie
+could not always drive the unwelcome intruder away.
+
+"I don't like her!" the small sinner had once been heard to say.
+"She--she p'eaches at me!"
+
+The Good 'Dosie was preaching now.
+
+"Wait! Count ten!" she preached. "Don't get any angrier, or you'll see
+red instead of pink. Think of that poor child's burned thumbs--think of
+her having to take to her bed when she got through--"
+
+"I don't wonder!" snapped Bad 'Dosie.
+
+"Wait--wait! Aren't you going to be good? Do you remember what you used
+to do, to help out? Well?"
+
+Miss Theodosia dropped the starchy mass on top of the other newspaper
+bundles and rather suddenly sat down in a chair. She saw a little child,
+preached to and penitent, on her knees, with folded hands, saying "Now I
+lame me down to sleep."
+
+It was very still in the room. Miss Theodosia's eyes closed and opened
+again. It was as if she had said "Now I lame me." A little smile tugged
+at the corners of her mouth. She no longer saw even pink.
+
+She got up briskly and began turning back her cuffs. First, she would
+build the kitchen fire; it must roar and snap, with all the work it had
+to do to-night. She would heat a lot of water, for only boiling water
+could take out Stefana's awful starch. While the water was heating, she
+would eat her supper.
+
+"A good, big supper, it will have to be," smiled this gentled Miss
+Theodosia. "I've got to get up my strength! No tea-and-toast-and-jam
+supper to-night." She heated her gridiron smoking hot and broiled a bit
+of steak. She tossed together little feathery biscuit and made coffee,
+fragrant and strong. Momently, Miss Theodosia's strength "got up." She
+moved about the kitchen briskly--when had she launched out upon a
+night's work like this? Adventure!--call it adventure.
+
+Work to Miss Theodosia had always meant something that other people
+did,--the Stefanas and their mothers and brothers and fathers. What she
+herself did, a gentle, dilatory playing at work, hardly merited the
+name. A bit of dusting, tea-and-toasting, making her own bed, cooking
+for sheer love of cooking, what did they count in Miss Theodosia's
+summing up of tasks?
+
+Always there had been some one to do her heavy things. She had put her
+washings out and taken her dinners in; three times a week she was swept
+and scrubbed and made immaculate.
+
+But to-night--to-night was different. This was to be no playing at work.
+Miss Theodosia rose to the occasion gallantly--indeed, exultantly.
+Thrills of enthusiasm ran up, ran down her spine. She prepared for a
+night of it.
+
+The dresses immersed in steaming hot water and her supper eaten, she
+stretched drying-lines, with considerable difficulty, from corner to
+corner of her kitchen, prepared an ironing-board, and got out long-idle
+irons. At eight o'clock she stopped for breath. Stefana's starch still
+resisted all inducements to part with Miss Theodosia's dresses; more hot
+water was required. After another steamy bath, they were cooled and
+wrung and draped over the crisscross clotheslines in the hot kitchen.
+Then Miss Theodosia temporarily retired from the field of battle.
+
+Theodosia Baxter had come back from her travelings to this small
+ancestral town with a mildly disturbing taste in her mouth. "Settling
+down" at thirty-six was not at all to her mind; she would not settle
+down!
+
+"If I catch you doing it, Theodosia Baxter!" she said. "If I catch you
+growing old! The minute you feel it coming on, you pack up and start for
+Rome! Or Paris! Or Turkistan! Start for Anywhere! Keep going!"
+
+But, already, did she feel it coming on even before all her trunks were
+unpacked? She was a little frightened at certain signs. Now, when she
+sat down heavily--why did she sit down heavily? If some one had called
+upon her for scores of little services, so that she must hop up again,
+immediately--little piping voices: "Mother, where's my cap?" "Mother,
+make Johnnie stop plaguing me!" "Mother, come quick!" If a big John had
+come home to her, demanding her time or sympathy or service--
+
+"No little Johns--no big one!" She sighed. "Is that the matter with you,
+Theodosia Baxter? Well, for Heaven's sake, don't tell anybody! Keep a
+bold front."
+
+She dozed a little in her rocker while she waited. Her plaintive
+reveries took the shape of a sober little dream wherein one Theodosia
+Baxter tottered on a cane and another walked briskly and youngly among
+Johns. Both Theodosias were thirty-six.
+
+"Mercy!" she exclaimed, waking up. "Where's my cane? I must go and iron
+Stefana's dresses!" She felt oddly refreshed. Queer dream to refresh
+one! She found herself thinking kindly of Stefana.
+
+"I hope she's sound asleep, and a pitying little girl angel with a
+nurse's cap under her halo will slip down and cure her thumbs before she
+wakes up."
+
+The irons she had set to heating were much too hot. Should she run
+out-of-doors while one of them cooled, and lie in wait to catch the
+little nurse-angel on the wing or perhaps darting thrillingly down to
+Stefana on a shooting star, breaking all speed limits! This was a night
+for adventure. The wild ride of a becapped and haloed little celestial
+in goggles would be an adventure! Miss Theodosia laughed out girlishly,
+not at all a tottery laugh on a cane, and the pleasant sound broke the
+midnight stillness.
+
+The dresses were dry enough to roll into tight bundles. One she essayed
+to iron as it was. She began as soon as the iron was cool enough.
+
+Miss Theodosia toiled--adventured--through the long hours into the
+short. It was unaccustomed toiling, and, like Stefana, she burned her
+thumbs. She had judgment and the skill that age kindly lends, in her
+favor, and slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's
+patient endeavors and brought beauteous perfection out of apparent ruin.
+But the process was wearying and long. It would have been but half the
+labor to have begun at the beginning instead of at Stefana's poor little
+end.
+
+At midnight, Miss Theodosia made herself cups of tea and sipped them
+thirstily. A wrist, both thumbs, and her testing forefinger smarted; she
+was tired and disheveled. But the spirit of adventure refused to die.
+
+The fire burned red-hot and the irons must cool again. Miss Theodosia
+slipped out this time into the soft darkness.
+
+"Let us hope Aunt Sarah will 'knit fast,'" she was thinking, with
+whimsical eyes. "But if she doesn't--Theodosia Baxter, dear, if Aunt
+Sarah is a slow knitter, you are in for it! I've no idea of letting you
+off. Baxters that begin, end."
+
+It was dim starshine out-of-doors. Miss Theodosia was too late to see
+the nurse-angel riding on her star, her little cap and halo awry with
+the downhill glide through space. She was too late to see her go into
+the dark little House of Children--but she saw her come out. Distinctly,
+a misty little blur of white against the velvet background. Miss
+Theodosia started a very little--did she need pinching to wake her?
+
+For the space of a clock-tick the little celestial appeared to hesitate,
+as though waiting for her star-steed to come within her hail. Then,
+floatingly, not walking, it seemed to Miss Theodosia, the mist of blurry
+white drew nearer. It came near to Miss Theodosia, and it was not the
+nurse-angel in cap and shining halo. It was Stefana!
+
+The child was in her nightgown. One look into her wide, unseeing eyes
+was enough; Stefana was asleep. In a chattering little voice she was
+talking to herself. It was like a soft wail of sound.
+
+"I must get them back! Quick, before she sees; I must iron them over.
+Perhaps if I starched them again--another coat of starch might hide the
+smooches. She mustn't see the smooches! If Mother should lose the
+chance--oh, I must get 'em back and starch 'em another coat! Mother
+mustn't lose her! My thumbs ache so!"
+
+Was she coming straight toward the door? No, a fortunate whiff of breeze
+seemed to blow her aside like a little seed-puff, and she went drifting
+by. She was apparently searching anxiously.
+
+"I must find them! Quick, before she sees! Oh, there are the smooches. I
+see some of the smooches! But I can't find the rest of them--"
+
+Miss Theodosia sprang forward in the direction of the pathetic little
+figure, but almost as quickly caught herself up. Sleepwalkers were not
+to be awakened suddenly. What then was to be done?
+
+"I must get her back to bed without letting her wake," thought Miss
+Theodosia. A plan suggested itself. She caught of her large apron,
+rolled it into a bulky mass, and swiftly followed the small nightgowned
+figure. Her steps made no sound over the grass. It was but the work of
+an instant to lay the roll of apron in Stefana's arms. Instantly, at the
+feel of starched cloth in her hands, the tense little face relaxed.
+
+"I've got 'em back!" Stefana muttered, and, as if from the relief of it,
+the troubled sleep seemed to calm and quiet down into deep oblivion to
+all troubles. To Miss Theodosia's dismay Stefana slid quietly to the
+ground and dreamlessly slept. Here, indeed, was adventure! Even at
+twelve years and Stefana small, the child was too heavy to carry home.
+
+"I don't dare to wake her," Miss Theodosia cried aloud, but softly, as
+if in fear of doing so.
+
+"You needn't--hush! I'll carry her for you."
+
+The voice seemed to materialize out of the gloom into something big and
+high and unexpectedly close at hand that rightly should have startled
+Miss Theodosia but failed to do so. Afterward, in the house again, among
+her irons, she was startled.
+
+"I was going by and saw her--you can tell a sleepwalker by the way one
+walks. Glides. Now, when I lift her, gently support her head--that's it.
+Forward, march!"
+
+"This way," Miss Theodosia directed in a whisper, though he was already
+moving this way. Shadow Man that he was, he stepped earthily, with thuds
+of his feet on the grass. Miss Theodosia's footsteps were soft echoes.
+So they came to the little House of Flaggs.
+
+"There's a light in that inside room, and I can see a bed. I'll lay her
+down, and you can go in afterward--and--er--smooth her out."
+
+"Yes--yes, I'll wait out here," whispered Miss Theodosia with a curious
+solemnity in her face. Rome, nor Paris, nor Anywhere had offered
+adventure like this--not like this. Miss Theodosia had an odd feeling
+that this, too, was a dream--and a John. Would they all wake up
+together?
+
+"Sound as a nut--never knew what hit her! But she wants straightening.
+New work for me; I'm not used to putting kiddies to bed."
+
+"Oh, I'm not either!" breathed Miss Theodosia, "but I might straighten
+one. I don't suppose you--you kissed her thumbs? Of course not!" She
+laughed softly. "But I shall."
+
+Now it was the Shadow Man's turn to laugh with a funny, explosive little
+effect as though he were not used to muffling his laughs,--as if this
+playing Shadow Man were a new rôle.
+
+"Why thumbs?" he whispered. "Why not lips, say, or eyes? I thought women
+kissed kiddies' eyes. Hope I haven't made a mistake--" as if he had some
+secret desire for women to kiss the eyes of little children. "If you
+don't mind kissing 'em when you go in there--"
+
+"I shall kiss her thumbs," Miss Theodosia said firmly. "They were burned
+at the stake for me. I know how burned thumbs feel."
+
+But the Shadow Man stubbornly persisted.
+
+"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll go back now and kiss her thumbs, if
+you'll kiss her eyes when you go in; as--er--a favor. 'Stoop over the
+little sleeper,' you know, and 'press your mother's lips to the closed
+blue orbs.'" He seemed to be quoting something.
+
+"But I haven't any mother's lips," sighed Miss Theodosia, "only the kind
+for thumbs--just thumbs. I'm sorry," she added humbly. Curiously she
+experienced no surprise at this intimate turn of a conversation with a
+Shadow Man at midnight.
+
+"That's all right--that's all right," the Shadow Man assured her. "Only
+thought I'd feel a little better to prove it was done that way. Hadn't
+any business mixing up with women's lips and kiddies' orbs, anyway!
+Serves me right." And now it was his turn to be humble. "Good night,"
+and he was gone.
+
+It was into a tiny bedroom off the kitchen, where a needle of light from
+a turned-down lamp barely pricked the darkness, that Miss Theodosia
+found her way. She had a dim picture of littering little clothes about
+the room and on the flat pillows of the bed the round, flushed face of
+Evangeline. In a clothes basket beside the bed she dimly saw a little
+mound that might be Elly Precious--it was Elly Precious! The little
+mound stirred with a curious, nestling sound, and instantly Stefana
+stirred also and crooned. Even in her sleep she was the little Mother.
+Miss Theodosia felt her own throat tighten and fill.
+
+Stefana still clasped the bundle of apron in her arms, and Miss
+Theodosia did not dare try to take it away from her. She merely arranged
+it a little more comfortably and smoothed Stefana out. Queer!--as if at
+some other time, in some passed-by existence, she had smoothed out a
+child. She seemed to know how. Suddenly she stooped and kissed, not
+Stefana's thumbs but her eyes.
+
+"The starch!" murmured Stefana as Miss Theodosia turned away. "Some'dy
+get it!" The deep sleep had broken a little, and through the break
+trickled a thread of Stefana's troubles. Then, again, silence and peace.
+No sound from bed or clothes basket on the floor.
+
+Outside, in the faint starlight, Miss Theodosia drew a long breath. She
+softly laughed. Curious how much like a sob a little laugh can be! Oh,
+starlit night of adventuring! What next? Miss Theodosia's mantle of
+gentle melancholy slid from her shoulders; she no longer felt
+apprehensions of growing old. Continually she saw Evangeline's rosy face
+on that flat pillow, and the little mound of Elly Precious. She
+remembered how tiny the house had looked from the inside, and how many
+little littering clothes she had seen. The appealing quality of empty
+little clothes! In Miss Theodosia's inside room of her soul, something
+stirred behind the locked door.
+
+The irons had cooled too much, and the fire was low. Miss Theodosia went
+to work again. As she worked, she talked to herself sociably.
+
+"Adventures thicken! Stars, and angels in caps, and children that walk
+in their little sleeps! And little heaps in clothes baskets, that are
+babies! And--Theodosia Baxter--a Man! Out of a clear, inky sky! Why
+weren't you scared? How do you know--you never even saw his face--maybe
+he was a thief, and a marauder, and a thug!"
+
+Granted, if thieves and marauders and those awful things, thugs, carry
+little loads or sleep as tenderly as women--and never wake them; if they
+are polite and say good night--. What kind of marauding and--and
+thugging is that?
+
+"What will Stefana think when she finds my apron in bed with her!"
+suddenly laughed Miss Theodosia, breaking the spell. "Funny Stefana! she
+goes to my heart, she and her starch--when they're asleep!"
+
+But, awake, Stefana's starch went to Miss Theodosia's back and aching
+bones. It was three o'clock when she was ready to go to bed. Over chairs
+and the couch in her sitting-room, lay the three redeemed white dresses,
+soft again and very smoochless and smooth. Miss Theodosia stood and
+admired. She was full of pride and weariness. At last, at thirty-six,
+she had done real work; she loved the feel of it in her tired bones. She
+loved her night of adventuring. Life--she loved that. So she went to bed
+at three, when the birds were beginning to get up. If her throat--calm
+and grown-up throat--had not persistently tightened, she would have gone
+to sleep laughing at the remembrance of it all. All the funny night. Why
+wasn't it funny? Why couldn't she laugh? She sat up in bed.
+
+On the morning after her adventurous night, as Miss Theodosia lingered
+luxuriously over her late breakfast, came bursting in Evangeline Flagg.
+A gray-checked something waved from her hand like a flag of truce.
+Evangeline always burst into things--houses, and rooms, and excited
+little speech.
+
+"Here it is!--that is, if it's yours. Stefana says to ask. 'Tain't ours.
+Mercy gracious, no! We don't take our aperns to bed. Stefana never heard
+of such a thing. Neither o' us never. In bed--right straight in bed! An'
+Stefana hugging it up like everything! She says to ask you if it's yours
+because it ain't ours, nor anybody else's, an' it's got to be somebody's
+apern, and once I thought I saw a gray 'n' white one hanging through
+your window--I mean on a nail, but, mercy gracious, what was it doing in
+bed with me an' Stefana!"
+
+Even Evangeline's breath had limitations. She stopped as headlong as she
+had begun. She unwound the large, voluminous-skirted apron from her
+grasp and extended it.
+
+"Here 'tis, if it's yours," she gasped, spent. She was gazing at it with
+a species of awe; it was an "apern" of mystery, not a human apern. "An'
+if 't isn't, take it--Stefana said not to dare to bring it back.
+We--we're sort of afraid of it, honest. Though, of course, Stefana says
+it must 've blew in the window"--the tide of speech was coming in once
+more--"an'--an' sort of landed on the bed, an' Stefana kind of grabbed
+it in her sleep, thinking it was Elly Precious. But, mercy gracious!"
+
+"Sit down," Miss Theodosia said, smiling. "Doesn't it tire you to talk
+as fast as that?"
+
+"Some," admitted Evangeline, "but I don't mind. What I mind is
+ghosts--aperns an' the kind with--with legs." She dropped her voice. "I
+saw one las' night."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia breathed.
+
+Evangeline nodded solemnly. "Out the window. I woke up feelin' one, an'
+I saw it goin' across the grass. White. Slinky."
+
+"Oh, not--slinky!" protested Miss Theodosia, suddenly championing the
+ghost-with-legs.
+
+"Slinky," firmly. "I guess I'd a-screeched right out if I hadn't
+remembered the baby. Elly Precious is terrible hard to put to sleep
+second time. You aren't much acquainted with babies, are you?"
+
+Again--so soon! Miss Theodosia's humility returned.
+
+"We're acquainted, over to our house! Mother says babies are great
+edge--edge--"
+
+"Educators?"
+
+"That's it! Mercy gracious, then I should think Mother'd be graduated!"
+
+After Evangeline's departure, Miss Theodosia set down her coffee cup and
+gave herself up to laughter. The room rang with the pleasant sound of
+it.
+
+"Will you l-listen to yourself, Theodosia Baxter!" she cried at length,
+out of breath. "You actually sound happy!"
+
+In the afternoon, a bevy of Miss Theodosia's old friends called on her
+as she sat on her front porch. They had intended, they said, to wait
+till the proper time, according to etiquette, for calls upon returned
+travelers.
+
+"But we wanted to see you so much, after all this time," one of them
+said. "We decided we couldn't wait to be proper. Besides, it would be
+such a risk. While we waited, you'd run off again. It was really our
+only way. Ladies, will you see how lovely and white she looks! Perfectly
+spotless!" The speaker sighed. Her own dress was dark and spot-colored.
+"I don't see how you do it! I tell Andrew I'd rather dress in white than
+in velvet--I love it! But, there, I couldn't get a minute to wear the
+dresses; it would take all my days to do 'em up. Of course, with you
+it's different. I don't suppose you ever toiled over an ironing-board a
+day in your life."
+
+Miss Theodosia gravely shook her head. "No," she said, curious little
+twinkling lines deepening round her eyes, "I never did--a day--in my
+life."
+
+"That's what I thought! That's what I told Andrew. 'Theodosia Baxter
+don't know what work is,' I told him. It's easy enough for some women to
+wear lovely white things. Simplest thing in the world!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's cryptic little smile lingered on her lips and in the
+clear windows of her eyes, as she gazed past the voluble wife of Andrew,
+through her vines, at the little House of Children next door. She
+imagined she heard Stefana singing, high up and sweet, over her work.
+Wait!--that was not a singing sound!
+
+A single shriek shot above the clear humming noise that might be
+Stefana. Then another--a third!
+
+"Some one is hurt!" cried Miss Theodosia, and she kilted her smooth
+white skirts and ran.
+
+Again that dread shriek! Over her shoulder, as she ran, Miss Theodosia
+gave directions to her startled callers.
+
+"Telephone for a doctor--any doctor. In the side hall--on a table!" But
+could any doctor save the life of that terrible shriek? If it came once
+more--It came! Miss Theodosia involuntarily closed her eyes to shut out
+a sight of horror.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+She opened them hurriedly at the soft collision of herself with
+Evangeline.
+
+"Who is it? Is it the baby? I've sent for the doctor." Half-remembered,
+half-read first aids crowded her mind confusedly. Warm water and
+mustard--that was for hemorrhage--no, no--poison! But did you apply it
+inside or out? What was that about laying the patient up hill--feet
+higher--or was it feet lower--down hill?
+
+"Take me there, quick! We must do what we can till the doct--oh, the
+poor baby!"
+
+"Mercy gracious goodness! Elly Precious is eatin' bread an' molasses.
+He's only et one slice, an' most o' that's on his outside. They aint'
+an'thing worse'n molasses the matter with El--"
+
+"There! Oh, there!" As another mournful cry split the air.--"Oh, that!
+What is it? Who is it?"
+
+"Mercy gra--why, that's Carruthers bein' a steam whistle. Did he scare
+you? He does do it pretty loud when he's gettin' up steam; you see, he
+don't know how loud he does it, because he's deaf o' hearin'. We can't
+bear to lower him, but we only let him be a steam whistle for a
+treat--when he's 'specially good--Mother said to. Stefana found him
+washin' his face 'free greatest' this mornin', so she let him--.Quick,
+shut your ears! He's goin' off again!"
+
+'But, this time, Miss Theodosia heard, unalarmed. To her own surprise,
+she listened almost enjoyingly. To be able to make a noise like that!
+The sheer vitality and youth of it compelled admiration.
+
+"If I could do that--" began Miss Theodosia's thought, then broke off
+hastily as the mental vision of herself in the act of bein' a steam
+whistle appeared to her.
+
+"You do it this way," explained Evangeline, inserting a forefinger in
+each corner of her mouth and preparing to steam-whistle.
+
+"No, no, I don't do it any way!" Miss Theodosia protested smilingly. "Do
+you think--do you think, perhaps, he has been sufficiently rewarded for
+washing his own face, now? Because, you see, I have callers on my
+porch."
+
+"Mercy gracious--I see 'em! I'll go right an' stop Carruthers! That's
+what Stefana said--that we'd ought to remember you wasn't in Europe
+now."
+
+"I think I could hear steam whistles there!" Miss Theodosia smiled. But
+Evangeline's sober mind continued its line of thought.
+
+"Stefana says if you'll hang somethin' red out when you're asleep, or
+got callers, or anythin', then she'll make us play funeral."
+
+"Oh, no--not that!" No red flag of warning could justify playing
+funeral.
+
+"Well, Hold-Your-Breath, then. We can't make much noise holding our
+breaths! Stefana's the champion Hold-Your-Breath-er. You take an awful
+long breath--this way--" But, already, Miss Theodosia was on her way
+home. She found her callers moving agitatedly about. "Central asked what
+doctor, and for the life of me I couldn't remember a living doctor's
+name in this town. 'Anybody,' I told her. 'Tell him to come quick;
+somebody must be dying over to the little Flagg place."
+
+Miss Theodosia lifted a hand to stem the tide of Mrs. Andrew's words.
+
+"He's stopped dying--listen! It's all quiet now; it was only play. I'll
+head Central off. Excuse me a minute--I mean, another minute!"
+
+But Central had done her work well--beyond heading-off. Already an
+automobile was speeding up the road; behind it clattered a
+hurriedly-driven buggy. Miss Theodosia saw them both stopping at the
+little Flagg place. She smiled. She was not needed over there to make
+any explanations or apologies--Evangeline was there!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+She sat on her porch after the visitors had gone, thinking strange Miss
+Theodosia thoughts. A man, coming up her front path and lifting a soft
+felt hat, interrupted the strangest thought of all.
+
+"I beg your pardon. Is this where somebody needs help? I was told--"
+
+Miss Theodosia laughed outright.
+
+"I do need help. Were you ever a steam whistle? You put two fingers in
+your mouth, one in each corner--I was trying to get up my courage to do
+it!"
+
+The felt hat rolled down the steps, the stranger needing both his hands.
+
+"Like this?"
+
+"Ye-s. I never saw a steam whistle, you know. That was what I was
+wishing."
+
+"Heard one? Because I can give a demonstration."
+
+"Don't!" Miss Theodosia shut her ears.
+
+"I heard one--demonstration. I thought some one was dying, at least."
+
+"Oh, that was the 'help wanted!' I see. My services are not required,
+then; it was a false alarm."
+
+Miss Theodosia was on her feet, remembering her manners. "It was a true
+enough alarm; won't you sit down? I think my nerves need a doctor."
+
+"Did I call myself a doctor? I am a reformed doctor, madam. It is some
+years since I got out. But I thought, in a very urgent case--fits, you
+know, or something like that--Thank you, I won't sit down. My work calls
+me."
+
+Miss Theodosia inclined her head politely, but curiosity seized her. How
+curious she was getting about many things!
+
+"I wish I knew--" she began.
+
+"Yes, madam?"
+
+"What work 'calls' reformed doctors. After they are--out."
+
+The stranger's big, unharnessed laugh was almost startling to Miss
+Theodosia. Why? She had never heard just such a big, unharnessed laugh
+before. She had heard a big harnessed laugh--when? Before she could
+answer her own thought, or the stranger could answer her spoken query, a
+hurry of small feet sounded. Only Evangeline's feet could break speed
+limits like that.
+
+"Oh, Miss Theodosia--oh, I don't want to int'rupt, but just soon's he's
+gone--"
+
+"He's gone," sighed Miss Theodosia, as the child came up. "You mustn't
+interrupt again, that way, unless it's a very urgent case--fits or
+something." In spite of proper vexation, she smiled. "Who was that man,
+Evangeline, that just went away?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I wasn't acquainted with his back; that's every speck
+o' him I saw. Oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, what is the matter now?"
+
+"'D you ever do up a man, Miss Theodosia? Stiff--awful stiff? Stefana
+says it's bad enough to do women up. She's havin' a dreadful time! We
+can't get the stiffness out; I been helpin'. It stands up alone!"
+Suddenly, without warning, Evangeline went off into a series of shrill
+shrieks.
+
+"Stop me! Stop me! Don't l-let Stefana hear me! Don't l-let me laugh!"
+
+This was an urgent case--fits or something, surely! Miss Theodosia's
+eyes sought the horizon for a reformed doctor. In lack of one, she shook
+Evangeline.
+
+"Stop at once! Make yourself stop; count ten!"
+
+"One! Two-o! Th-ree!" shrieked Evangeline, through to ten. Ten separate
+shrieks. Then, abruptly, she ceased.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I've stopped! I hope Stefana wasn't listenin'. But she
+wasn't; she was cryin'. I left her cryin'. If you could come over--.
+Honest, we can't do a thing! We thought you'd probably did up men."
+
+Miss Theodosia never had. Not so--awful a thing as that!
+
+"It stands up alone, with both arms out! I don't dass to go back. I
+shall laugh if I do, an' if I laugh, Stefana'll cry. She don't think
+it's f-funny." The shrieks showed signs of returning, and Miss Theodosia
+again had recourse to stern measures.
+
+"Count ten!" she demanded, as she shook.
+
+They went back together to the mysterious something that stood alone
+with both arms out. It was in that pose as they approached it. Miss
+Theodosia thought it was f--funny; an awful desire to shriek like
+Evangeline took possession of her. She counted ten in inward haste.
+
+"I can't do anything with it!" wailed poor Stefana. "And Elly Precious
+gets into it, and makes it walk! He's in it now."
+
+"It's walkin'!" shrieked Evangeline, as the portentously stiff shirt
+staggered a little to one side. Stefana, filled with enthusiasm and
+generosity of soul, had starched not the bosom alone but the entire
+shirt. She had done it thoroughly. The result was alarming. It was a
+terrible shirt!
+
+"Tell me what to do--somebody tell me!" entreated the little laundress.
+"I've unstarched it, and unstarched it, and seems as if it got stiffer."
+
+"Boiling water," breathed Miss Theodosia, too spent with her struggles
+not to laugh, to admit of further speech.
+
+"Wait! Don't anybody dass to pour boilin' water on till I get Elly
+Precious out! Come to Evangeline this minute, darlin' dear--no, they
+shan't boil him!"
+
+Elly Precious emerged, crowing. The deaf-but-not-dumb little Flagg
+appeared, to swell the number around the Terrible Shirt. Stefana dried
+her tears. Miss Theodosia had the sense of being looked up to--relied
+upon. She rose to the occasion buoyantly. As unused as Stefana to men's
+bosoms, she yet stepped into the breach. Unused to issuing orders, she
+issued them.
+
+"Evangeline, you and Carruthers see to the baby. Stefana, come with me.
+Bring--it."
+
+They went back to the big house, she with that new and intoxicating
+sense of importance, and Stefana with the Terrible Shirt.
+
+"Whose is it--that?" she asked, indicating the creaking white garment.
+"What were you doing with it?"
+
+"Starching it," mumbled poor Stefana. "It took most a package. He said
+he liked his stiff. 'Put in plenty o' starch,' he said to Mother, and
+she always did. So I did. I thought if he said--"
+
+"If who said?" It took a long time to establish the identity of the
+Terrible Shirt.
+
+"If he did, the man it belongs to."
+
+"What man--who?"
+
+"The man that writes things."
+
+"What things?"
+
+"We don't know exactly. Evangeline thinks tracts. She says his room was
+all full o' half sheets o' paper--lying all over everywhere. She saw
+'Good Lord' on one. Perhaps it's sermons. Mother always sent Evangeline
+home with his wash; I never went. He is a very nice man--oh, that's why
+I feel so bad about his shirt! I wouldn't care if he was an--an
+infidel!"
+
+"Bless your heart!"
+
+Miss Theodosia turned suddenly and embraced Stefana and the shirt.
+"Don't worry any more," she said; "you and I will work wonders with that
+Tract Man's shirt! Stefana, put the kettle on and we'll go to it!
+There's nothing two determined people can't do, once they've put their
+minds on it."
+
+Together they labored, and the impossible happened. Theodosia Baxter did
+up a man! She--and Stefana--succeeded in getting the starch out of the
+surrounding area and into the bosom of the Terrible Shirt. They got much
+starch in. Inspiration appeared to come to Miss Theodosia. Even the
+really awful task of ironing that bosom till it glittered and shone in
+unwrinkled board-like expanse was at length accomplished. Miss Theodosia
+was justly proud of herself--and of Stefana; she insisted upon including
+Stefana in her triumphs.
+
+"Eureka!" she exulted. "Call Evangeline, Stefana, and Elly Precious, and
+Carruthers! Call in a Chinaman, if you like, and tell him to look at
+that! Ask him to beat it!"
+
+"There isn't any in this town," responded literal Stefana. "That's why
+Mother did bosoms. She'd a good deal rather not've."
+
+"But I love to do bosoms!" sang Miss Theodosia. "I never felt so worth
+while in my life before--an artist in starch, Stefana!"
+
+"Well, you've done beautifully--I never did see!" the grateful Stefana
+cried. "But I'm afraid it's kind of gone to your head. I think you
+better lie down."
+
+"Send for the Reformed Doctor! Stefana, what are you doing with my
+beautiful bosom?"
+
+"I won't muss it. I'm just going to take it home and sew the buttons on.
+There's two off. Mother always sewed 'em on; he pays two cents extra for
+repairs."
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair face flushed. "You don't stir a step with it! I
+have buttons and a spool of thread--what I do, I finish doing! Give it
+to me."
+
+For the first time, Miss Theodosia handled a man's garment intimately.
+It lay stiffly across her lap. She sewed on the two buttons; she mended
+a tiny "hog-tear." Life had taken on new interests--bosoms and buttons.
+She thrilled--when had she ever thrilled before? Ironing her own dresses
+had been a poor, tame business. She would be sorry to part with this
+shirt!
+
+And then Evangeline came.
+
+"Mercy gracious, doesn't it look elegant! I came over because he's come
+for his shirt. He says he's goin' to begin a new story, an' he always
+has to have a clean shirt on. An' his hair cut--he's got it cut. I guess
+that bosom'll match his hair all right! It's perfectly lovely!"
+
+"What did you do with Elly Precious, Evangeline Flagg!" demanded
+Stefana.
+
+"That's it--that's why I got to hurry back. He's keepin' Elly Precious
+for me, an' he don't know what to do with babies. He says all his are
+paper ones--paper babies! He gave Elly Precious his knife, an' opened
+the blades to amuse him! He said he guessed Elly Precious wouldn't hurt
+'em!" Evangeline's face registered great scorn. "If you'll give it to
+me, I'll carry it to him," she concluded, holding out her hand for the
+shirt. But Miss Theodosia sewed calmly on. She had found a second tear
+larger than the first. It would be better to strengthen it with a little
+piece underneath. She would find a white scrap in her bag of pieces.
+
+"It is not ready yet. He can wait. But you must not wait, Evangeline.
+Elly Precious may be playing with his pistol, if he carries one."
+
+"He don't. He ain't a pistol-man, but, mercy gracious, how you scare me!
+You comin' too, Stefana?"
+
+"Yes, Stefana can go now. She is all through," which was Miss
+Theodosia's kind inclusion of Stefana. That, again, was curiously new to
+Miss Theodosia. Psychological changes were taking place--or were they
+just plain tugs on Miss Theodosia's heartstrings?
+
+She sat and sewed.
+
+"Patching--I'm patching!" she laughed to herself. "And here I've been
+hiring my own mending done! Theodosia Baxter, see what you are doing;
+you are patching a shirt for a man! No, I'm not, either! I'm doing it
+for Stefana--what are you talking about?"
+
+Some one came up her steps and knocked on her open door. But she was too
+engrossed to hear. The patch underneath had slipped a little askew. She
+ripped out some of the stitches and began again. She caught herself
+humming as she worked.
+
+"Please may I have my shirt?" a voice asked meekly. "That story is
+promised for next month. It's the twenty-eighth, now."
+
+Evangeline's Tract Man stood in the doorway, soft felt hat in hand,
+twinkles in his eyes. Evangeline's Tract Man was the Reformed Doctor! If
+Miss Theodosia had been eighteen instead of thirty-six she would not
+have blushed more beautifully, but she continued to patch. She was
+caught in the act; no help for it now. But she would finish--that--patch.
+
+"So it's you! So that's the work Reformed Doctors do!"
+
+"Madam, yes. When stories appeal to them more than pills and tonics,
+they reform and write stories. They have to!" he cried, suddenly in
+earnest, "When one is life, and the other death--"
+
+"Oh, if it was death to them--your patients," she murmured. Then,
+ashamed of her own flippancy: "Of course, I didn't mean anything as
+silly as that! I meant--I meant, please sit down while I finish this
+patch. There, in that easy-chair. There are magazines on the table."
+
+There was one magazine with his own name in the list of contents. He
+opened it at that page and gazed down upon it quite soberly.
+
+"My name is John Bradford," he said, as if reading. Miss Theodosia
+started a little, but it was not as he thought, in his innocent vanity.
+Miss Theodosia got no farther than the first part of the name--so he was
+a John! She glanced quickly at the doorway, measuring him in her mind as
+he had stood against the lintel. He had reached a long way up--a long
+man. The Shadow Man had been a long shadow. Something told her--
+
+[Illustration: "If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into
+a story like that."]
+
+"Did you ever carry a child in your arms and lay her on a bed? In the
+middle of the night? Did you do it last night? Are you the same man?"
+
+"I am the same man I was last night," he answered gravely. "I was John
+Bradford then, too. Didn't I carry her all right? What was the matter?"
+Suddenly he leaned forward in the chair. "Did you kiss her thumbs?" he
+demanded.
+
+"I kissed her eyes."
+
+They were silent for a little, while Miss Theodosia set small, nervous
+stitches in John Bradford's shirt, and John Bradford twiddled the edges
+of the magazine. He stole glances, now and then, at this strange woman
+with whom he seemed to have come so oddly into contact. He could make a
+story of her dark hair, straight shoulders, beautiful hands. He could
+not get a good view of her full face. Bending over a bed, kissing a
+little sleeper's eyes--he could work her in that way. If he knew her a
+little better--
+
+"I knew they did it!"
+
+"Did what--who?"
+
+"Women--kissed that way. You have proved it now."
+
+"I'm not women. I'm just one woman, and I never did it in my life
+before."
+
+"Well, you liked doing it, didn't you? I could put you in, liking it."
+
+The shirt slid to the floor, and Miss Theodosia gave her visitor a full
+view of her face.
+
+"Are you making 'copy' of me? Because if you are thinking of putting me
+anywhere, put me into a story like that. I'd like it. I mean, with
+little children in a bed--and one in a clothes basket! Say I tucked them
+in--Yes, I liked kissing Stefana's eyes. I should love to have another
+chance. It's nothing to be ashamed of, is it, to like little children?"
+
+"I like 'em. I always have."
+
+"Well, I always haven't. Only very lately--it's queer. When I came home
+here and found all those children next door--mercy gracious!"
+
+They both laughed. Laughing together is a great acquaintancer. Miss
+Thedosia suddenly thought of something and laughed a little more.
+
+"My name is Theodosia Baxter," she said. They rose and shook hands
+gravely. They were decently introduced. The beautiful shiny bosom of the
+shirt lay between them like a white mirror and Miss Theodosia caught the
+man's glance on it.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of--doing up a shirt?" she demanded.
+
+"Not doing it up like that! That's a work of art!"
+
+"A work of heart--I did it for Stefana. I've got quite fond of it now,
+and shall hate to part with it. It's a friend."
+
+"A bosom friend," he parried. Again they laughed and grew more
+acquainted. Miss Theodosia made tea in her dainty Sčvres cups. The
+faintest flecks of pink made her face youthful. Miss Theodosia was a
+good-looking woman always, but, animated, her face was really lovely.
+John Bradford was better used to paper women, like paper babies, but his
+taste recognized flesh-and-blood attractiveness. He had always been a
+lonely man--until now.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time," he sighed. "Is it anything to be ashamed
+of, to have a beautiful time?"
+
+"Or two cups of tea? Please! This is my company tea--warranted good to
+write stories on!"
+
+"Oh--stories. Are there such things? Did I ever write one? Have I got to
+write another?"
+
+"It's the twenty-eighth," Miss Theodosia reminded demurely. "But you
+will need another cup of tea. How long does it take?"
+
+"To drink another cup?"
+
+"To write another story. Tell me about it. Perhaps I could do it. You
+take a blotter and a pen and plenty of half-sheets of paper--'tracts,'
+Evangeline calls them! Then you write 'Good Lord!' That is what
+Evangeline says you wrote on a tract! She said maybe it was a sermon."
+
+"Oh--Evangeline! And speaking of angels--"
+
+"Mercy gracious! You're here--both o' you! An' somebody's gone an'
+spilled a drop of somethin' on that beautiful bosom!"
+
+"A tear-drop, Evangeline, because she wouldn't give it to me."
+
+"Tea drop!" sniffed Evangeline. "Guess I know! After all Stefana's work!
+Miss Theodosia, can Elly Precious eat your grass? He's out there now. He
+don't really eat it; he just kind of pretends. Mother says Elly Precious
+ought to be put out to pasture. We haven't got any grass to speak of,
+over to our house."
+
+"Don't speak of it! Of course he can eat mine, if you think it is
+edible. Ask the Reformed Doctor."
+
+"Him a doctor? Mercy gracious--honest? Then he knows if Elly Precious'd
+ought to eat grass--not really eat, you know."
+
+"Just graze a little--let him graze." The Reformed Doctor rose to his
+feet and held out his hand to Miss Theodosia. "I'll go out and see how
+he does it. It's lucky Evangeline came in, or I might not have known
+enough to go at all. I've had a beautiful time. I'll put you in with the
+bedful of kiddies."
+
+"And the clothes basket?"
+
+"And the clothes basket."
+
+"You haven't got your shirt--mercy gracious! I thought that's what you
+came after," reminded Evangeline.
+
+"Was it?" the Reformed Doctor said. "Give it to me, Evangeline."
+
+"Not naked! Without wrappin' up! I never did see!"
+
+"It's such a good-looking shirt--well, then, wrap it up, wrap it up.
+I've got a newspaper in my pocket. Put that round it, Evangeline." He
+turned again to his hostess. "It will be a good story if I put--the
+clothes basket--in it. They won't send it back. Good-by."
+
+He was off to inspect Elly Precious' grazing-ground. Evangeline, at the
+window where she had gone to make sure her darlin' dear was safe,
+presented to Miss Theodosia a square, bony little back that was
+curiously like that of a dwarfed old woman.
+
+The trail of innocent Elly Precious was over that stoopy little figure.
+Miss Theodosia looked with softened eyes. Then a smile grew in them,
+wrinkling their corners whimsically. She was noticing something else
+besides the little old-lady back. Evangeline's braids toed in! Tight and
+flaxen, they stood out in rounded curves, converging suddenly to the bit
+of faded ribbon that tied them together. There was something suspicious
+looking about that ribbon--"Stefana starched it!" smiled Miss
+Theodosia's thought.
+
+The small figure whirled face about.
+
+"There, _he_ can see to him awhile." Evangeline was always cheerfully
+oblivious to any confusion of ideas arising from her use of personal
+pronouns. "I'm tired. Children are a great care," said Evangeline. She
+seated herself in an easy chair and dangled thin legs.
+
+"If you drank tea--I'll make you a cup of cocoa, Evangeline."
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious, no! I'm not as tired as _cocoa_. Jus'
+sit-'n'-a'-chair tired. You know how it feels--no, you don't either.
+I forgot. I guess you are pretty lucky. No, I don't guess so _either_!"
+Evangeline suddenly straightened on the edge of the big chair and eyed
+Miss Theodosia sternly, as though that innocent soul had been the one
+guilty of disloyalty to darlin' dears.
+
+"Children are a great comfort," declaimed Evangeline with emphasis. She
+might have been the mother of six comforts. Tenderness crept into her
+eyes, and her freckles seemed to fade out, and even the small blunt nose
+of her take on middle-agedness and motherliness. '"Specially when you
+undress 'em. They're so darlin' an' soft! You ever undressed one--a
+reg'lar _baby_ one? Of course not one o' your own when you never _had_
+any, but I thought p'raps you might've undressed a grandbaby or
+somethin'--"
+
+Miss Theodosia shook a humbled head.
+
+"No," she murmured, "I never undressed even a grandbaby." And curiously
+she failed either to smile at the child's little notion or to wince at
+the advanced age it implied for her. She looked across the room from her
+big chair to Evangeline's with rather a wistful look. She was envying
+Evangeline.
+
+"I'm sorry," the child said gently, a little embarrassed by the
+unexpected solemnity of the moment. To relieve it, she had recourse to a
+sudden funny memory of her own undressings of Elly Precious. She broke
+hurriedly into laughter.
+
+"I have to have an extra pig for my baby!" she shrilled. "Takes six
+instead o' five! You know where it ends, 'This little pig said: "Quee!
+Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door sill"?' Mercy gracious, you
+don't know the little pigs, I s'pose--" More embarrassment. Even
+Evangeline was losing presence of mind.
+
+"Oh, yes!" Miss Theodosia brightened perceptibly. "I know the one that
+went to market and the one that stayed at home--all five of them I
+know."
+
+"But you don't know Elly Precious's extra little pig!" crowed the
+reassured Evangeline. "Just _us_ know that one. I made him up. When you
+have six toes,--I mean when Elly Precious has,--you have to have six
+pigs. After the one that can't get over the barn-door sill, I say: 'This
+little pig said--' wait, I'll say the last two together so you'll see
+they rhyme beautifully. Reg'lar poetry.
+
+"'This little pig said, "Quee! Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door
+sill.'"
+
+"'_This_ little pig said, "He! He! He! when you tickle, I can't keep
+still!'"
+
+"Elly Precious wiggles it when I tickle! We laugh like everything. I
+think it is pretty good poetry," added Evangeline modestly.
+
+"It is beautiful poetry. I never could have begun to make up such a
+lovely, ticklish little pig!"
+
+Evangeline leaned back again in the soft cushiony embrace of the great
+chair and actually achieved a moment of silence. The talkative clock on
+Miss Theodosia's mantel filled in the space. Then once more Evangeline:
+
+"But I shall never have any."
+
+"Any--pigs?" smilingly.
+
+"Children. Not any. I've decided I'll rest. They're such a care. But of
+course I can run in an' undress Stefana's an' Elly Precious's--mercy
+gracious, Elly Precious's!"
+
+It required too great a mental effort to visualize them. Elly Precious's
+children were _funny_! Evangeline giggled softly. "Then I'll be a
+gran'mother, won't I! I've always wanted to be a gran'mother an' say
+what I did when _I_ was a child an' how I always _minded_." A fresh
+giggle. "'_I_ never had to be _told to_ twice, my dears,' I'll say to
+Elly Precious's children! They'll all be my dears. I'll help bring 'em
+up. Isn't it queer," broke forth Evangeline suddenly, "how when you get
+to be old you never were bad when you were young? The badnesses have
+kind of--kind of faded out. I bet there _were_ badnesses!"
+
+And Miss Theodosia found herself nodding decisively. She, too, bet there
+were.
+
+A hilarious little crow suddenly sounded from without the window; it was
+accompanied by a deep man-sound of mirth. Miss Theodosia and Evangeline
+smiled across at each other indulgently.
+
+"Elly Precious is havin' a good time. That's his good-time noise. Oh, I
+think he's a nice person, don't you?"
+
+"Nice? I love him!" cried Miss Theodosia warmly. Her face that was still
+the face of a girl was tenderly flushed. "I love every inch of him,
+Evangeline."
+
+"Merry gra--that's a lot of lovin'! I guess you are ahead o' me!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, aren't you ashamed! When he is the dearest,
+cunningest--"
+
+"Not--not _cunnin'est_. But he's got beautiful whiskers. I mean if he
+didn't shave 'em off. When he came, he had 'em on. You can't love his
+whiskers when you never saw--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up a limp hand to stem this terrible tide of words.
+
+"Oh, stop! _wait_, Evangeline!" she begged. "Who are you talking about?"
+
+Why stop for grammatic rules at a time like this?
+
+"Why, he--_him_. I said I liked him, an' you said you lov--"
+
+"I have been talking about Elly Precious, naturally," Miss Theodosia
+returned stiffly. "You are very careless with your pronouns,
+Evangeline," she added with an effect of severity. Her cheeks that
+persisted still in being a girl's cheeks had grown a warm, becoming
+pink. In pink Miss Theodosia was lovely.
+
+"Don't you think you'd better relieve Elly Precious' caretaker by this
+time? He may not enjoy being left in charge quite so long."
+
+"Not enjoy! Come an' see him not enjoy!" sang Evangeline from the
+window. She was flattening her nose against the pane and bubbling with
+sympathetic glee. Miss Theodosia went over and stood beside her.
+
+Out there the two of them were frolicking together--two joyous children.
+It was the good old game of Peek-a-boo, but seemed a new, surprising
+game to Miss Theodosia. The big playmate on the grass spread a
+handkerchief over the little playmate's face, and with a shriek of joy
+the little playmate did the rest. Then the big child's turn--turn and
+turn about. Deep voice and thin, sweet tinkle of baby voice joined in a
+curiously harmonious chorus that rang through the window pane into the
+two pairs of listening ears.
+
+It was a new light in which to see--a new sound in which to hear John
+Bradford. Miss Theodosia had a guilty consciousness of being an
+eavesdropper, yet she kept on eavesdropping. At a particular climax in
+the little play, she laughed aloud softly. Evangeline wriggled with
+enjoyment. Her fingers drummed applause on the glass, and the big player
+glanced quickly up and saw the two lookers-on. He did not hesitate in
+the play, did not stop the next little gleeful peek. Miss Theodosia
+loved it in him for not stopping. They were not ashamed--Elly Precious
+and John Bradford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+In the next few days Miss Theodosia unpacked the rest of her trunks and
+put the things away neatly in permanent places. She sang as she did it.
+Life seemed a singing thing to Miss Theodosia who had been a lonely
+woman--until now. Now she could look out of her window and see the
+little House of Flaggs. Any minute Evangeline might burst in. The steam
+whistle might blow. The Shadow Reformed-Doctor Man might come for
+another cup of tea. Anything might happen.
+
+Something did happen, but it was not a singing thing. Evangeline did
+burst in. It was some days later than the Day of the Shirt. Miss
+Theodosia sat comfortably sipping her afternoon tea. Two dainty cups
+were before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious--mercy, mercy, mercy gracious! This is the worst! This
+is worse than Aunt Sarah! An' to think it's Elly Precious, my darlin'
+dear! An' to think I never had--! An' to think I did it myself!"
+
+Even to Evangeline, words failed to express this worst of all things.
+She dropped, a little leaden thing of despair, into Miss Theodosia's
+great chair and rocked herself in anguish.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Miss Theodosia cried anxiously. The little word of
+endearment slipped out unconsciously, though she was not used to
+"dears." But she was not used to this, either--this rocking in anguish
+of a little child in her great chair.
+
+"Can't you stop crying and tell me?" Evangeline not able to talk! Miss
+Theodosia was actually alarmed. If speech did not return quickly--but
+speech returned.
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious me!" Evangeline sobbed, rocking harder, "to think I
+went an' set him right down in the middle of 'em--right slap in the
+middle! An' he didn't want to be set down. Elly Precious despises the
+Benjamin baby. He knows he's a girl, an' girl-babies don't count. But I
+set him down--oh, mercy gracious me, I went an' set him down, slap!"
+
+Sobs and words collided and inextricably mixed. In the dark Miss
+Theodosia waited; she saw no light as yet.
+
+"If I could only have 'em--if I only had've, anyway! Then I could take
+care of my darlin' dear. But Elly Precious's is the only measles we ever
+had in the family."
+
+Ah, light! Miss Theodosia blinked in the sudden inflow of it.
+Evangeline's released tongue leaped ahead.
+
+"How'd I know the Benjamin baby had 'em when she only just sneezed? Oh,
+I suppose she sneezed 'em all around, an' I set Elly Precious down in
+'em! Right in a nest o' measles!"
+
+"What was Elly Precious doing there? I don't remember any Benjamins."
+
+"No'm--oh, no'm. They're very recent. It's that house with the baby-pen
+in the front yard to keep their baby in. I set Elly Precious down in it,
+too, one day."
+
+Evangeline shuddered. "While I was gettin' Stefana's starch at the
+store; I asked if I could, till I got back."
+
+Miss Theodosia's face put on sternness. "What was the mother of the
+Benjamin baby thinking of, to let you?" she demanded.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I don't know! That's a very speckled baby, anyway,
+an' perhaps she didn't know measles from speckles. He didn't bloom out
+reg'lar built till next day--I mean she didn't--oh, I don't mean the
+mother didn't--"
+
+"I know, dear; I know what you mean," soothed Miss Theodosia gently.
+
+"Yes'm, that's what I mean. Next day they found out for sure."
+
+"But have you found out 'for sure'? How do you know Elly Precious has
+the measles? Has he--bloomed out? Perhaps his are speck--"
+
+"Elly Precious!" rose Evangeline's voice of indignation. "He's the
+unspeckledest baby you ever saw! I guess--I guess you never saw Elly
+Precious!"
+
+Stefana appeared suddenly in the doorway,--a blanched and frightened
+Stefana. But she was determinedly calm.
+
+"He's fell asleep, and Carruthers is watching him through the door. I
+told him not to go any nearer'n that. I came over to ask if I'd better
+send word to Mother. He said to ask you."
+
+"Carruthers?" Miss Theodosia was a little bewildered.
+
+"The Tract Man. He's the one that--that discovered Elly Precious's
+measles when we found he was broken out--I mean Elly Precious broken
+out--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know. He is a doctor--I mean--" Miss Theodosia caught
+herself up firmly. One at least must steer a clear course.
+
+"He was goin' past," Evangeline put in, "an' I asked him, if he uster be
+a doctor, wouldn't he please to be one now an' 'xamine Elly Precious's
+spots."
+
+"Measles," Stefana said briefly and hopelessly. "Shall we send for
+Mother, or what'll we do? Aunt Sarah isn't knitting."
+
+"Aunt Sarah--" began poor Miss Theodosia. Would she ever get used to
+little Flaggs? Evangeline broke in gloomily with explanation.
+
+"No'm, not knittin', Mother wrote Stefana. Kind of--of unravelin'
+instead. An' Mother's caught it."
+
+Miss Theodosia turned appealing eyes to Stefana.
+
+"Her knee's bad, too. Maybe it's just rheumatism, but she borrows Aunt
+Sarah's crutches when they're empty. I don't see how she'd get home--"
+
+"Don't send for her!" Miss Theodosia directed. Some inner voice seemed
+to say it through her lips. The same dictate from within prompted the
+rest.
+
+"Bring the baby over here. Bring all his nightgowns. I'll take care of
+him. It won't do for all you children to come down. Does the
+Reform--does the doctor think you can have caught them already? I don't
+believe it! Not till the disease is further advanced."
+
+"That's what he said--not till." Stefana hurried in eagerly. "_He_
+didn't believe it."
+
+"The Benjamin baby wasn't further advanced," doubted Evangeline
+discouragingly.
+
+"Never you mind the Benjamin baby! You bring your baby over here at once
+with his nightgowns! I believe we're in time. I'll be reading up my
+medicine book. You can tell the doctor to come here instead of to your
+house. Don't any of you dare to kiss Elly Precious good-by!"
+
+Miss Theodosia was moving briskly about the room, doing strange
+things,--pulling down shades and drawing together draperies.
+
+"Mustn't have too much light, though maybe that is later on, too. I'm
+sure there is something about being careful of the eyes. Evangeline,
+wait! Let Stefana go. I don't trust you; you might kiss him."
+
+"Yes'm, I might," sighed poor little Evangeline. "He's my darlin' dear."
+A terrible separation yawned before her like a bottomless pit of
+desolation. How was she to live Elly Preciousless?
+
+"Can't I come over an'--an' hold him when he isn't--when he isn't
+sneezing?" she suddenly sobbed forth. Miss Theodosia was too engrossed
+to be sympathetic. There were many things to think of.
+
+"Come over?--I should say not! You can't do anything but look through
+the window, and I shall ask the doctor if that's safe. Now
+listen--dear," again the "dear" slipped through her lips unconsciously.
+"Listen! When you see Stefana coming, you go out the back door! I wish
+I'd told her to bring him in the clothes basket instead of in her
+arms--"
+
+"I'll tell her to! Through the window. I'll tell her to bring him by the
+handles," and Evangeline hurried away excitedly.
+
+An hour later Miss Theodosia, in a voluminous white apron and a hastily
+invented white cap, had formally assumed her astonishing new rôle. Under
+the cap Miss Theodosia's cheeks were prettily pink. It was becoming to
+her to be Elly Precious' nurse. But the queer feeling of it! An hour ago
+Theodosia Baxter, in a big house, alone; now this becapped and
+pink-cheeked Theodosia in a house with a baby! It was an exciting
+change; what else might it become? She was a little afraid of Elly
+Precious.
+
+"Not now, while he is asleep, but when he wakes--" she thought. What
+would she do with Elly Precious when he waked?
+
+Of course, she had sent for the Reformed Doctor, and equally, of course,
+she would do precisely what he told her to do. But how would it feel? So
+far, it felt queer.
+
+"I'll wait and see," she concluded with philosophy. At six the doctor
+came. It was significant how he had left his rôle of authorship at home
+and came physicianly, brisk and competent.
+
+"Measles haven't changed, anyway, in ten years," he said as he removed
+his coat. Long ago, as a doctor, John Bradford had had his
+idiosyncrasies, and one of them had been to work in his shirt sleeves.
+The laying aside of his coat now had, if Miss Theodosia had but known,
+bridged over the ten years.
+
+"Am I quarantined?" demanded the nurse.
+
+"You are," promptly replied the doctor.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+Silence while the tiny patient was carefully examined, with so delicate
+a touch that he slept on.
+
+"For how long?" then.
+
+"Oh--weeks. Two, perhaps. Perhaps three. He is beginning to be feverish
+in earnest now. You got him over here just in time. May I have a glass
+of water?"
+
+Miss Theodosia went away to get it on shaking legs. She almost
+staggered. The plot was getting thick!
+
+"If you think his mother ought to be sent for--I'm afraid I'm in a blue
+funk!" She had returned and was splashing the water over the edge of the
+glass as she held it out. He laughed reassuringly. His face, turned
+sidewise up at her, was as reviving as cool water upon a faint. Miss
+Theodosia "came to."
+
+"I've got over it. Go ahead--tell me precisely what you want done. Write
+it down somewhere. I can read writing! And I can't forget it. Of course
+I can rock him?"
+
+He did not answer at once, and she misinterpreted his silence.
+
+"I shall rock him," she said with firmness. "Written down or not written
+down." And again he laughed, with the same curiously explosive little
+effect as when she had first heard him do it as a Shadow Man.
+
+It was long after he left before Elly Precious woke. With remarkable
+presence of mind, Miss Theodosia had darkened the room to make the
+difference between herself and Evangeline or Stefana as inconspicuous as
+possible. It helped. Elly Precious, even busy with his measles, might
+have vigorously refused this strange new ministering. But in the
+darkness he accepted it with a measure of resignation. He appeared to be
+looking inward at his own poor little pains instead of outward or upward
+at Miss Theodosia. She wisely refrained from speech during those first
+critical moments.
+
+Ten-year-old arms may not be as steady for cradling as thirty-six-year
+olds. Miss Theodosia's were steady and soft. The baby nestled into them
+and she rocked him.
+
+She was rocking a baby! She was glad to be alone in the dark. The
+sensation rather overwhelmed her. Then Elly Precious flung up little hot
+hands and touched her face, and the sensation was no longer a new one.
+Surely she had felt it before. Was it in another incarnation that she
+had rocked a little child? The small, hot hands tugged at her
+heartstrings--they must have tugged, just so, at that ancient rocking.
+It was a beautiful tune, but not a new tune that the small hands played.
+No, no--not new!
+
+Miss Theodosia began to croon softly, no longer afraid of sound. And
+Elly Precious snuggled deeper.
+
+Shut in together--she and he and the measles--they grew accustomed to
+each other. After the first, the days went rather fast, with
+Evangeline's help through the window and under the door. Evangeline
+helped from the first. Miss Theodosia found little letters emerging
+through the tight crack under her outside door. The first one she read
+smilingly:
+
+[Illustration: Evangeline established a stage of action outside the
+window.]
+
+"He likes jiggy tunes best--please sing him jiggy tunes."
+
+So she sang them to Elly Precious and found he liked them best;
+Evangeline knew. This method of helping promised to be valuable.
+
+One day there were two little letters under the door.
+
+"When he crys, he'll stop if you distrack him. Like this--_boo_--or make
+a cow-noise or a horse-noise, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes he
+keaps right on and then its no use to distrack him. Try tickleing unless
+tickleing is bad for measles."
+
+This was a long note. Miss Theodosia did not smile this time because of
+the new sensitiveness in the region of her heart. When she read the
+second note, she held it a long time in her hand while something wet
+blistered it in spots.
+
+"Please don't be mad if I worry a little for fear Elly Precious will
+throw off his cloes. He's a dreadfull throw-offer, so we pin his sides
+to the cloesbasket but maybe you don't sleep him in a cloesbasket. I
+couldent sleep last night.
+
+"P.S. With safety pins."
+
+Sometimes they were cheerful little letters that peeped under the tight
+crack. Evangeline wrote the news to Elly Precious. That Stefana's washes
+came easier now and Carruthers was good all the time, only they never
+let him be steam whistles, of course. That they all missed Elly Precious
+and hoped that they'd be short measles and, mercy gracious, yes, they
+loved him, and Aunt Sarah was knitting again.
+
+As the baby began to convalesce (they were short measles) and could sit
+up on Miss Theodosia's lap in front of the window, Evangeline's most
+important assistance began. For Elly Precious had very restless
+occasions and even Miss Theodosia's new skill failed always to
+"distrack" him.
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the biggest-paned,
+lowest-silled window, where vision was least obscured from within. On
+that stage she danced wild, long dances, varying with each performance.
+It was amazing how she varied them--sometimes bending and bowing
+tirelessly, sometimes evolving remarkable skirt dances from legs and
+toes and whirling petticoats. She grimaced unweariedly as long as Elly
+Precious would laugh at her faces. When he tired of those, she
+impersonated a cow--a horse--and made cow-noises and horse-noises at
+the top of her voice, to carry to Elly Precious.
+
+Day after day she came, and they watched her from the big-paned
+window--the baby and Miss Theodosia. It was a great help to the measles.
+
+"I never saw such a child!" Miss Theodosia said to the Reformed Doctor.
+"She never gets tired of doing it."
+
+"Never was but one Evangeline--but she gets tired all right. Needn't
+tell me!"
+
+"Then it's--love," Miss Theodosia said gently.
+
+"It is," nodded he.
+
+They had proceeded far in their acquaintance. Elly Precious had been so
+tiny a thing between them, as they ministered to him! It was not to be
+wondered at that they had drawn closer. After his professional "call,"
+John Bradford fell into the way of lingering till she brought him tea.
+
+"Talk about women loving tea!" she gibed gayly.
+
+"Talk about it being the men that want three lumps!"
+
+"That is queer, isn't it? We're the wrong way about; I like mine sweet
+and you don't want any sugar. We're the exceptions that prove the rule.
+If you'll hold Elly Precious a minute, I'll fill your cup."
+
+"That will make three."
+
+"'And I'll do it again, if you like--and again if you like!'" she
+quoted.
+
+"Are you making stories now?" she asked him that day.
+
+And he nodded gravely, "One--a love-story."
+
+"Tell me about it! We want to hear it, don't we, Elly Precious? We love
+love-stories."
+
+"Not yet. Not till it is a little farther along." He set the third cup
+down untasted. His face, as Miss Theodosia looked smilingly at it across
+the baby's head, had grown grave. She wondered simply. Miss Theodosia
+was not making a love-story.
+
+"Will you tell us about it when it's farther along? About the heroine
+and how she likes being in a love-story? Mercy gracious, it must be
+exciting!"
+
+"If I can find out how she likes it," was his enigmatic answer. "She may
+not work out as I want her to. Heroines are women, you know."
+
+"Well, of all things! If you can't make your heroine behave, I don't see
+who can!"
+
+"I don't," he said slowly. "But I shall do my best."
+
+Another day, she had something to show him, and she made a little
+mystery of it at first. She and Elly Precious knew! It was something
+sweet--it could be worn, but you seldom looked at it. It was soft and
+hard, too. You could--kiss it! When it was empty you wanted to kiss it,
+and when it was full you had to!
+
+"Show it to me!" he commanded; "think I can guess all that?"
+
+She brought it and laid it in his hands, delighted like a girl.
+
+"Feel of it--isn't it soft? And I never made one before, so it was hard!
+You seldom look at it, because it's worn in the dark. You'd like to kiss
+it now, it's so sweet, but when I put Elly Precious into it, you'll
+_have_ to kiss it! There, didn't I tell you right?"
+
+It was a little nightgown she had made for Elly Precious. He held it on
+his two big hands like something wonderful. Its little sleeves dangled
+over, and she caught one of them and squeezed it in a sort of soft
+ecstasy.
+
+"It's so little!" she cried in a whisper. "Aren't you going to kiss it?"
+
+"If you'll look away--I'm afraid to when you're looking."
+
+"I won't look," she laughed. "You look, Elly Precious!"
+
+The bath-times were the pleasantest to Miss Theodosia. Getting things
+together--little tub and powders and soaps and the fresh little
+clothes--was a beautiful beginning, and after that--after that, the
+deluge! The practice she had had washing that little ancient baby, in
+her former incarnation, stood Miss Theodosia in good stead! As she had
+bathed and rubbed and powdered her first baby eons ago, she bathed and
+rubbed and powdered this second one now. For she called Elly Precious
+her baby. That was their beautiful play.
+
+"We'll keep it a secret, won't we?--just between you and me, dear! We
+won't even tell Evangeline that you're my darlin' dear," she crooned
+over this second baby. Elly Precious played the game; he was a little
+sport, was Elly Precious.
+
+The morning after the little new-nightgown episode, the bath progressed
+thrillingly. That was, it seemed, the morning set by Elly Precious to
+give this new mother a glorious surprise. It could not be said that he
+had it up his little sleeve, being innocent of any manner of garment,
+but he had it prepared.
+
+Miss Theodosia dried the tiny body and set it far forward on her knees,
+facing her, and began as usual:
+
+"Now, baby, watch--watch hard! Make exactly the same noise I do." She
+put her lips in position for clear enunciation.
+
+"Mam--m-ma."
+
+Customarily, Elly Precious sat and chuckled gleefully and nakedly. This
+was a favorite play. But, oh, to-day--
+
+"Mum--mum," said Elly Precious distinctly. Miss Theodosia caught him to
+her, slippery and sweet, with a cry of rapture.
+
+"You said it! You said it, Elly Precious--darlin' dear! Now I shall wrap
+you in a beautiful soft blanket and sing you a jiggy tune! Before I
+dress you in horrid, bothery sleeves, we'll rock, and rock, you and
+make-believe mum-mum!"
+
+The big chair creaked delightsomely to the ears of Elly Precious. To its
+accompaniment sang Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Darlin' Dear! Darlin' Dear, Mum-Mum's here--oh, Elly Precious, I shall
+send you to college! Of course, to college. You shall be a doctor--" Was
+that the chair creaking, or a door? It was a door. On the doorsill stood
+the Reformed Doctor, gazing in. The blanket had slipped away and it was
+a beautiful, bare Elly Precious in Miss Theodosia's arms, against her
+breast. The little picture stood out, distinct. But so soon it faded.
+She was on her feet and facing that treacherous doorway. Flames burned
+on her cheeks.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of to pretend he is my baby! Well, I've
+done it--I'm pretending now. We were having a beautiful time till--"
+
+"Till I came."
+
+"Till you came. You heard what I said about making a doctor of him, I
+suppose?"
+
+He nodded. "I heard," he said meekly.
+
+"But you didn't give me time to say it all. I was going to say he'd stay
+a doctor and not reform!" With which Parthian shot, delivered with
+spirit, Miss Theodosia turned her back and Elly Precious' back to the
+intruder. What was left for him to do but retire, vanquished and
+diminished? The business of the bath went on, but joyless now. There was
+no further putting off of the horrid, bothery sleeves that Elly Precious
+abhorred. He set up indignant wails, and Miss Theodosia's soul wailed in
+unison.
+
+"All our dear good time spoiled! We're not pretending any more; you're
+Evangeline's darlin' dear. I'll put you on the bed and give you your
+bottle." So abruptly had the beautiful game come to an end. Miss
+Theodosia went away to prepare the bottle. As she went, a glint of white
+underneath the door to out-of-doors caught her attention. Evangeline had
+not tucked it under as far as usual. Perhaps it was not unnatural,
+considering her new mood, that Miss Theodosia picked up the little
+letter almost impatiently.
+
+"He says he can come home day after to-morrow if he don't colapse, so
+Stefana is cleaning the house and I'm helping and we can't hardly wait.
+We've got a new cloesbasket Stefana's going to make bows for the
+handles, tell Elly Precious.
+
+"P. S. Pink bows."
+
+Miss Theodosia was not impatient as she folded the little letter again.
+Tears stood in her eyes. She hurried back, bottleless, to Elly Precious,
+to tell him. That he had fallen asleep made no difference.
+
+"You are going home day after to-morrow! Dream it in a little dream,
+dear. When you wake up, it will be true. They can't hardly wait and
+there's a new 'cloesbasket' with bows--P. S., pink bows. Oh, Elly
+Precious, you know you're glad to go home! You've been pretending, too!"
+Game little Elly Precious, to pretend! She stooped and kissed his eyes,
+close shut in that dream of going home. "They are cleaning the house,"
+she whispered, "they can't hardly wait."
+
+A prescience of awful loneliness swept over her. She saw Theodosia
+Baxter--lone and babyless again--set back in her empty house. The
+curtain had gone down--would go down day after to-morrow--on the last
+beautiful act.
+
+"But I have two days left! I demand my pound--fifteen little pounds of
+flesh!" Elly Precious' little pink flesh. She would play that last act
+of the little game of make-believe. Intruders or no intruders, she would
+play it! At once, she began again where they had left off.
+
+"You will have to go to college very young, dear," she said. "They are
+going to take you away from me day after tomorrow. A day and a half is
+such a little college course; you'd be such a little Freshman, Elly
+Precious! So we will have to give it up, dear. We'll just spend our last
+days together. Who wants to know Latin and Greek anyway? I'll teach you
+to pat little cakes in English!" Surely, surely she must have taught her
+first baby to pat-a-cake. The blundering little hands in hers felt
+strangely familiar. The first baby had been just as funny and sweet as
+Elly Precious at that little lesson.
+
+"If I only had a little more time!" sighed Miss Theodosia. "There is so
+much left for us to do; it is cruel to hurry us so! We might--we might
+run away, dear! You and I. To Europe and Asia and Africa! I'd show you
+all the wonders of the world. Listen, Elly Precious,--the _pyramids_!
+Wouldn't you love to see the pyramids? You could play in the warm sand,
+anyway,--bury your little twelve toes deep! We would keep watch all the
+time and _run_ when we saw Evangeline coming. We would never stop to put
+on our shoes and stock--Elly Precious, you've gone to sleep!" So little
+was he thrilled at the prospect of pyramids.
+
+Miss Theodosia rocked him gently in her arms. Perhaps she would rock him
+the whole day and a half--they could not prevent her! She would not stop
+rocking if twenty Reformed Doctors came and looked at her. She would
+rock in their faces!
+
+A sudden and queer thought came to her of Cornelia Dunlap standing in
+the doorway, looking in as John Bradford had done.
+
+She saw the wreck of Cornelia's plump calm--Cornelia's wide-eyed
+amazement. After she had reluctantly deposited the small, limp body upon
+the couch to finish out the nap, she got her writing materials and wrote
+to Cornelia Dunlap, with a whimsical little smile playing about her
+lips. Her pen moved fast across the sheet.
+
+"The baby is having a beautiful nap. While he is asleep, I can write to
+you. Of course my time is limited--'what with' scalding and filling
+bottles and giving little baths--Cornelia Dunlap, go and get a little
+baby and wash him! In a tub, with your sleeves rolled up. Let him splash
+the water into your face--over your dress--hear him laugh! Give him the
+soap for a little ship a-sailing. Oh, Cornelia, teach him to pat-a-cake!
+Get a baby with the measles if there's no other way. You will love him
+in between all his little measles. But, listen to me; _take this
+advice_: Don't let them take him back! Hold on to both his little hands.
+Run away to Africa with him if there is no other way--he will love to
+play in the sand beside the pyramids. Send him to college, Cornelia, and
+I think--yes, make a doctor of him. Doctors are best.
+
+"Morituri salutamus--we who are about to lose our babies and die wish
+you happiness with yours, is the free translation. _Hold on to yours_.
+He is a dear, I know. He may be as dear as mine, but he hasn't twelve
+toes!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+It was the two days later and it was Evangeline. The child's radiant
+face lighted up the room.
+
+"He let me come! I promised Stefana I wouldn't kiss him till I got him
+home so's she could, too. He said to kiss his neck or behind his ears."
+As usual no confusion of personal pronouns troubled Evangeline.
+
+"Mercy gracious!--oh, mercy gracious, he's improved! He's fatter! I
+never thought measles'd be fattenin'! You're glad to see me, aren't you,
+darlin' dear? I'm Evangeline! I've come to take you home. We've got
+everything ready, only one bow, an' Stefana's piecin' that. Oh--my
+darlin' dear!"
+
+The curtain had gone down. Theodosia Baxter stood quite alone in her big
+room. In her ears was suddenly the shriek of a steam whistle of welcome;
+it died away, and the silence ached. A crumpled something half under a
+chair caught her eye and she openly sobbed. It was a forgotten little
+nightgown.
+
+"I'm going to Rome--I'm going to Paris--to Anywhere! I can't stand
+this!" she wailed. And then the creak of a door again.
+
+He stood on the door-sill looking in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+"I've done it again!" came from the doorway repentantly, "but this time
+I knocked, honest to goodness. Regular bangs! You ought to have heard,"
+his tone assuming an injured cadence.
+
+Miss Theodosia had recovered herself. She was unfeignedly glad to see
+him this time.
+
+"Maybe it was you, steam-whistling," she laughed. "I heard that! Oh, I
+am glad enough you came this time! You've saved me from a trip to
+Rome--tea is so much less expensive! I'll go and get it." She was off
+directly and back again in remarkably quick time with her little kettle
+and lamp. "Less time and fuss, too. See how little baggage! Now, Rome--"
+
+"Don't mention Rome!" There was a deep note in John Bradford's voice. He
+watched her making the tea. Miss Theodosia's hands were worth watching.
+
+"Speaking of steam whistles reminds me of ears," he said.
+
+"Naturally! The two go together, all right!" But she saw that his face
+remained grave. "Oh!--you mean the steam-whistler's ears--I see."
+
+"Yes, I have examined them rather carefully. They aren't hopeless little
+ears--not hopeless. I'm not ready to go any farther than that yet. But I
+intend--you see, I specialized in ears and a few other things at the
+University--in practice, too, before--before I reformed."
+
+Quickly Miss Theodosia looked up.
+
+"There! You are harking back; please don't hark back! It was mean in me
+to say it. I'm sorry! If I'd sent Elly Precious to college--while he was
+my baby--and given him a doctor's degree, he could have taken it or left
+it. He'd have had a right. Men have rights to their own lives."
+
+"Sure," but John Bradford's tone was thoughtful rather than emphatic.
+"Still--I sometimes wonder--"
+
+"Why?--tell me why!" Now she was championing the Reformed Doctor! "You
+could do as you pleased, couldn't you? It was your own life you were
+'reforming.' Still, I wonder, too. Tell me how it happened."
+
+"How do I know how it happened?" He was walking up and down the room.
+"It was in my blood to write stories. I wrote them every chance I could
+get. Had to write them. I suppose I woke up to the rather decent
+conclusion that a man can't serve two masters and serve them well. Isn't
+efficient. So I chose my favorite master. There you have it in a
+nutshell. May I have mine in a teacup?"
+
+She filled the dainty shell, but it rattled a little on its saucer. Miss
+Theodosia felt about for less moving things; she was strangely moved.
+
+"How is the love story getting on?" she asked.
+
+"The--oh! Well, it had a setback awhile ago. Setbacks are not good for
+love stories. But I shall go to work on it again."
+
+"At once--to-day?" What was this sudden freak of hers to drive him to
+work?--the work she had all but derided before.
+
+"To-day. I'm working on it now--that is--er--"
+
+"Before and after--tea," she smiled. "Well, I shall help you all I can
+on that story. I feel in a penitent mood. When you begin on it again--"
+
+"I've begun on it again."
+
+"After you go home, I mean. When you go to work again, make believe I'm
+David Copperfield's Dora--holding the pens!" Too late she saw her error
+and hedged. "Or cups of tea to keep up your strength."
+
+"I like pens better. If Dora were there--"
+
+"One more cup? You've only had one. The cups are no size at all. And
+while you drink it, tell me about your heroine. What have you named
+her?"
+
+"Dora," he said promptly. "You see, you've helped already."
+
+It was pleasant, drinking tea like this, with John Bradford there,
+opposite, having his second cup. A pleasant way to drink tea--with a
+John! Miss Theodosia hugged herself happily. Even the forgotten little
+nightgown on the floor failed to diminish her content. She had not
+forgotten Elly Precious; she was merely making the most of the
+ameliorations the gods offered. The kind gods. But conscience had to put
+in its pious oar.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time; I don't know whether you are or not. But
+I'm going to send you back to that love story. I hope the Recording
+Angel will give me a white mark for it, or cross out a black one. The
+goodness of me! I've been sitting here trying to strangle my conscience,
+but you see it isn't my own--it's my grandmother's conscience; you have
+to respect your grandmother's conscience. You'll have to go."
+
+"I can work on it here," he pleaded, but she shook her head mournfully.
+
+"I haven't the materials. It takes special paper, doesn't it, and pens?"
+
+"I could--er--think up my plot."
+
+"With me talking a blue streak? I should talk a blue streak; that's my
+grandmother's, too. No, you must go. How will you ever get it done, if
+you don't?"
+
+"I sha'n't if I do. Staying here is doing me good. I need to 'get up
+more strength.'"
+
+She laughed, but remembered her grandmother. "No more tea," she said
+kindly. "Conscience! But I'll tell you--you may come back after you've
+worked."
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+And for many to-morrows he came back. On one of them the talk once more
+reverted to the book that the Story Man was understood to be writing, in
+some mysterious Place of Pens and Paper.
+
+"I hope it's a regular romance," Miss Theodosia said.
+
+"Romance? What is that? Is there such a thing? There may have been
+once--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks took on faint color. She turned upon him.
+
+"Once nothing! I can't help it if that is slang; the occasion demands
+slang. Are you trying to tell me romance is dead?"
+
+He nodded. "Sterilized--Pasteurized--boiled out of us. I suppose," he
+sighed, "we are more hygienic, but we have faded in the process. It
+dulls romance to Pasteurize it."
+
+She held up a staying hand.
+
+"Please!" she said, "in words of one syllable and maybe you can convince
+me. But you can't. Do you mean to say there are no sweet, blushing girls
+left, with--with dreams?"
+
+Again his sigh. It pained him to disillusion her.
+
+"Not blushing ones. I tell you the color won't stand our modern
+sterilization process. I misdoubt the dreams, too. If they dream 'em,
+they're of independence and careers and votes; you wouldn't call those
+romantic dreams, would you? The little 'clinging vines'--" he waved them
+back into the past with a comprehensive sweep of his hand--"all gone.
+Our present-day soil is too invigorating, too stimulating. The
+young things stand up on their own roots. No more clinging. Each one
+aspires to be a spunky little tree by herself. Look at 'em and see for
+yourself--the subways and elevateds are full of 'em at the crush hours,
+nights and mornings--all glorying in their independence--their fine,
+strong, young roots. No blushing, no clinging there! Are you convinced?"
+
+"I am not," flashed Miss Theodosia gamely. "There must be one little
+dreamer of love dreams left."
+
+"Show her to me."
+
+"That isn't fair. I'm not in a way to know girls. I know just Stefana."
+
+"And Evangeline."
+
+"And Evangeline," laughed Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Is she romantic?" demanded the Story Man. And there he had Miss
+Theodosia. She had instant vision of Evangeline growing, straight and
+thrifty already, on her own small roots. It was not possible to
+visualize a blushing--a clinging little Evangeline.
+
+"She is still young," Miss Theodosia murmured. "Besides, she's one of a
+kind. There's only one Evangeline. You can't reason by only one of
+anything. The exception proves the rule."
+
+"Then you yield me Evangeline?"
+
+"Yes, you may have her on your side," conceded Miss Theodosia
+generously. It was rather in the way of a relief to shift the
+responsibility for Evangeline. Miss Theodosia suddenly bubbled into low
+laughter.
+
+"She is going to be a plumber."
+
+"Evangeline a plumber?"
+
+"Yes, because she's got to be rich, she says. She's 'sick 'n' tired' of
+being poor, and you can make such _darlin_', roary, snappy fires in a
+tin pail! Plumberin' will be fun."
+
+He laughed a little, too, enjoyingly, but returned to his arguings. Said
+he:
+
+"_Be_ a plumber, not marry one, you see. What did I tell you? Oh, you
+have no monopoly on Evangelines! The woods are full of tame Evangelines,
+anyway. You will have to come over to my side."
+
+"Not at all. I haven't given up my own side. I shall hold on a little
+while longer. I am not going to admit _yet_ that all sentiment is dead
+and buried. And, anyhow, I don't see what it's being dead or alive has
+to do with your story. I thought authors were creators. Can't you create
+a little sentiment--romance? To my order?" she added demurely.
+
+Replied the Story Man with grave eyes: "I shall do my best. We are a
+good deal at the mercy of our heroines. But I will do all that I can to
+win mine over, dear lady. Heaven knows I want to!"
+
+"Then you are on my side now; you have changed your mind!" she cried
+tauntingly. "Woman, thy name is not Fickleness, it is thy husband's
+name! Well, I am glad it is going to be my kind of a story. How did I
+know but it was to be a historical novel or a problem story--ugh! And,
+instead, you're going to make love to your heroine in the dear old
+thrilly way."
+
+He stirred in his seat, and his eyes sought his hostess. But Miss
+Theodosia's eyes were cheerfully following the infinitesimal stitches
+with which she was rimming an infinitesimal round hole in the bit of
+linen in her hand.
+
+"How far have you got?" she questioned over a new stitch.
+
+"Not very far," sadly; "I think I am a little afraid of my heroine."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Well, I think I'd take her by the ear and march her
+round to suit myself! If I wanted her to say '_yes_'--do you want her to
+say 'yes'?"
+
+Did he want her to say yes!
+
+"I'm trying to lead her up to it," he said gently. Miss Theodosia bit
+off her thread.
+
+"March her up to it, march her! You're too gentle with her. What is the
+use of being a Story Man? Might as well be a plumber like Evangeline!"
+
+It was at this moment that Evangeline appeared on the little Flagg
+horizon. They saw her coming their way, loaded as usual with Elly
+Precious. The sag of her wiry little figure on the Elly Precious side
+appealed strongly to Miss Theodosia. She dropped her foolish bit of
+linen and hurried to meet that little sag. When she came back with Elly
+Precious in her own arms, the Story Man was wandering away. He waved his
+hat to them smilingly.
+
+"Please drop him--drop Elly Precious," Evangeline said, "anywheres
+_soft_. I don't want him to distrack your mind. You play with your dolly
+an' be a darlin' dear, Elly Precious, while we talk."
+
+Very gently Evangeline subtracted Elly Precious from Miss Theodosia and
+removed him to an undisturbing distance. Then she returned and stood
+before Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Stefana was born to-morrow," Evangeline stated gravely. "You didn't
+know, of course, nor neither did I till it kind of came out. I told
+him," nodding in the direction taken by the Story Man. "We plotted up a
+hatch--I mean we hatched up a plot. He said to talk it over with you. I
+don't know what he's goin' to do, but he'll do it--he said he would. An'
+I thought--I thought--" Unwonted hesitations disturbed Evangeline's
+smooth flow of speech. She sat down suddenly.
+
+"I guess I can say it easier sittin' than I could standin'. It's some
+hard to say--it's so kind of _bareheaded_. But I don't know what else
+to do. You see, Stefana'd hear me beatin' the eggs an' stirrin', if I
+did 'em at home. An' besides, it would fall--oh, mercy gracious, I know
+it would! I thought if I could do it over here--"
+
+"Evangeline," Miss Theodosia said gently, "drop your voice at a period
+and begin all over with a capital letter. Take your time, dear."
+
+Said Evangeline with a sigh: "I'll try standin' up. I guess I kind of
+mixed you up, didn't I? You see, what I _meant_ was, could I make
+Stefana's birthday cake over here to your house where she can't hear me
+stirrin'?"
+
+"Oh, Stefana's birthday! That is why she was 'born to-morrow.'"
+
+"Yes'm, in a thunder storm. I've heard Mother tellin'. It will have to
+be a graham cake."
+
+"A--what kind of cake, Evangeline? Maybe you'd better try sitting down;
+I don't think I just understand."
+
+"No'm, no'm, I guess you wouldn't, because you probably can always 'ford
+white flour. I thought if I frosted it over real white, it would hide
+the grahamness. I've got two eggs."
+
+Understanding came to Miss Theodosia, though a little slowly. Was she
+growing stupid?
+
+"Evangeline, we'll make Stefana's cake together; we'll take turns
+'stirrin''! We'll do it over here and keep it a beautiful secret."
+
+The child was standing up now certainly, her wiry little body a-tilt
+with excitement, a-quiver with it. Evangeline's eyes shone.
+
+"Oh, I knew you would! I knew you would! You're such a _nangel!_ If you
+was a kind of folks that liked to be kissed--"
+
+The soft pink of Miss Theodosia's cheeks! She lifted her head and sat
+very still.
+
+"Come and try me, dear. Maybe I am that kind of folks." And in a little
+whirlwind of tender gratitude descended Evangeline upon her. It was a
+whole-souled kiss, the only brand possible to Evangeline.
+
+"I--I am that kind!" gasped Miss Theodosia, emerging laughing but
+tender-eyed. "Now let's begin the cake."
+
+"Oh, yes, mercy gracious, yes! I'll go get the eggs 'n' graham flour,
+an'--an' molasses. Could we sweeten it with molasses, Miss Theodosia?
+It'll take all o' my sugar for the frostin'. We are pretty used to bein'
+sweetened with molasses--"
+
+Miss Theodosia had a swift mental taste on her tongue of Stefana's
+graham birthday cake, molasses-sweet. There were her heartstrings at
+their odd little twitching again!
+
+"You won't have to go home at all, Evangeline. I've got all the
+materials--" but at sight of the child's face, a little fallen and
+troubled, she hastily appended--"except the eggs. I guess you'd better
+go home and get those."
+
+"Two!" sang Evangeline joyously, already on her way; "I've got two.
+Two's a lot of eggs, isn't it?"
+
+They mixed and beat and stirred together, and Evangeline never knew how
+many more eggs than two went into the rich golden batter. Elly Precious,
+tied for safety-first into one of Miss Theodosia's chairs, looked on
+with an interest more or less intermittent; when Evangeline's offerings
+of "teeny speckles" of toothsome batter were delayed, the interest
+flagged. The baking time was for Evangeline a period of utmost
+anxiety--there were so many direful things that might happen to
+Stefana's cake. If it fell down or burned up--
+
+"Oh!" she breathed with infinite relief when the strain was over, and
+only lovely things had happened to the cake, "I'm so happy I could sing
+if I had any vocal strings! That's queer about me, isn't it? I don't
+have any trouble with my _talkin'_ strings."
+
+"Not a bit," agreed Miss Theodosia gayly. "What makes you think you
+couldn't sing?"
+
+"Because once I tried to sing Elly Precious to sleep an' it woke him up,
+awfully up. He was scared. So I always talk him to sleep. Miss
+Theodosia, don't birthday cakes sometimes have candles round the edge of
+'em? I don't mean Stefana's, of course, but rich folks' birthday cakes."
+
+"_I_ mean Stefana's. Evangeline, we'll have thirteen candles!" but
+inwardly she was wondering if forty would not fit better round the edge
+of aged little Stefana's birthday cake. "And we'll decorate it--write
+something on the top, you know. We'll make the Story Man do it for us."
+
+Evangeline was awed into near-silence. "You mean--poetry? Mercy
+gracious, poetry!"
+
+"Something lovely," nodded Miss Theodosia a little vaguely. If it be
+poetry, the Story Man must do that part, too. A little later, when
+Evangeline had shouldered Elly Precious and departed and the Story Man
+had sauntered again into sight, she hailed him with relief. Displaying
+the snowy little cake, she explained the situation.
+
+"You must do the rest. We want a 'sentiment' on it, Evangeline and I.
+What is the use of being a literary person if you cannot inscribe a
+birthday cake?"
+
+He groaned a little, reminiscently. He remembered the autograph albums
+of his bashful youth. How much better than an autograph album was a
+frosted cake?
+
+"Something appropriate, you know," encouraged Miss Theodosia, brightly.
+"In lovely pink writing on top."
+
+"'She hath starched what she could,'" he offered tentatively.
+
+"Oh, for shame! Something nice and romantic."
+
+"But romance is dead--hold on, I beg pardon! That is not decided yet; I
+remember. You shall have your poetry, you and Evangeline. Something
+after this wise:
+
+ "'Our most esteemed Stefana,
+ May rough winds never pain her'
+
+"Do winds 'pain' people? But, to speak modestly, I call that a pretty
+neat sentiment to turn out extempo like that. 'Stefana'--you can't deny
+Stefana is a hard word to rhyme with. Now tell me a harder one!"
+
+"Evangeline--Theodosia," she murmured. Her eyes dwelt lovingly on the
+little white cake. He should not make fun of it!
+
+"I'll decorate it myself," she said, "I'll have a little pink heart on
+it--_two_ little pink hearts."
+
+"With but a single thought. Make them with but a single thought--beat
+them as one. There! I'm perfectly sober and sane now. It's a fine little
+cake, and I'm not worthy to write poetry for it.
+Longfellow--Shakespeare--Whitcomb Riley--we'll canvass them. Don't think
+I'm not respectful to Stefana's birthday."
+
+"I don't know what you call respect!" she retorted. But she knew the
+next day. She found out what he called respect. The knowledge came, as
+so much that was worth while came, through Evangeline, Elly Precious in
+its wake. They came running this time. Elly Precious' small body rolled
+and lurched with their hurry and the agitation of Evangeline's soul.
+
+"Somethin's--happened."
+
+"Give me the baby. Sit down, dear. Now."
+
+"The flower wagon brought Stefana--roses," whispered Evangeline. "In a
+long box--an' tissue paper. Oh, my mercy gracious, stopped right
+straight at our house! An' nobody dead." Evangeline's whisper rose to a
+weird little cry. The wonder of the flower wagon stopping right
+straight! And every one alive!
+
+"Stefana's countin' 'em. I guess she's counted 'em a hundred times.
+They's--thirteen! They've got the longest stems you ever _saw_! Stefana
+can't get over their stems; she said they most made her cry."
+
+For very breath Evangeline stopped. Over the little uneasy head of Elly
+Precious shone Miss Theodosia's eyes. Miss Theodosia was softly
+thrilled. The stems appealed, too, to her; she loved them long--long.
+
+"Roses, you say? Oh, Evangeline! Birthday roses for Stefana! What
+color?"
+
+"Red--red--red," chanted Evangeline "Thirteen red roses an' thirteen
+long stems. In a pasteboard box with 'Miss Stefana Flagg' wrote on it.
+You ought to seen how Miss Stefana Flagg looked! She--she kissed the
+box. I guess now she's kissin' the roses. She never 'spected to have any
+roses till she was dead. An' then she couldn't 've kissed 'em an' cried
+at the stems," added Evangeline softly. She was suddenly a softened
+little Evangeline, curiously gentled by Stefana's sweet, red roses. Miss
+Theodosia caught her breath at the sight of the child's face and the
+thought of Stefana kissing her roses.
+
+"I wish--I wish you'd go over an' congratcherlate Stefana," whispered
+Evangeline. "She'd be so tickled. I'll keep Elly Precious ever here, an'
+Carruthers is playin' ball in a field." As though this ceremony of
+'congratcherlation' demanded quiet and privacy.
+
+And by and by Miss Theodosia went. She had a whimsical impulse to carry
+her little silver card case, but she did not yield to the whimsey. She
+did take off her little white apron and smoothe her hair. Stefana to-day
+was a person for ceremonies and respect. Oh, the kindness, the clearness
+of those long-stemmed roses! She had not thought to do it herself, but
+he--a man creature--Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender.
+
+Stefana was still sitting among her roses. They lay across her lap.
+
+"Oh! Oh, come right in, Miss Theodosia!" she cried welcomingly. "But
+please to excuse me for not getting up--I can't bear to disturb them.
+Seems as if I could sit right straight in this chair till they withered!
+I'm breathing easy so not to breathe the smell out. I never had any
+roses before."
+
+Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. She whispered a little laugh.
+
+"Seems as if I'd ought to be married while I have 'em! They're such
+beautiful roses to be married in!"
+
+And this was Stefana, their matter-of-fact, starchy little white-washer!
+This rapt, dreamy little face was Stefana's face!
+
+"Sometimes," Stefana murmured, "sometimes I've dreampt--" but Miss
+Theodosia did not quite catch what it was Stefana had sometimes
+"dreampt," but it was something sweet. Stefana a little dreamer of sweet
+dreams! One of them must have been a rose-dream, and this was that dream
+come true.
+
+The call of congratulation was a brief one. It seemed little short of
+irreverence to have seen at all that picture of Stefana rocking her
+roses in the little wooden rocker. Miss Theodosia slipped away with it
+hung on the walls of her mind--she would never take it down.
+
+John Bradford was coming along the road and she went a little way to
+meet him. Some of Stefana's radiance was in her own face.
+
+"I've found it," she announced in soft triumph.
+
+"Good!" he hazarded at random. It was always good to find things. But he
+wondered at the radiance.
+
+"My romance that I knew was somewhere. I've found it! I told you so!"
+
+"Found it where?" he demanded. He was unconsciously stirred by her
+emotion. He followed her glance to the little House of Flaggs.
+"Not--there?"
+
+"Yes, there. Stefana is dreaming it over a lapful of red roses. I have
+been there and seen her. Is romance dead--is it? Go and look at
+Stefana!" But she held him back from going. "No, no, I didn't mean it!
+Not in cold blood--I didn't go in cold blood. You will have to take my
+word for it."
+
+"I will take your word."
+
+"That romance is not dead?"
+
+"That romance is alive. But who would have thought of it's being
+_Stefana_!"
+
+"Who would have thought!" echoed Miss Theodosia.
+
+Elly Precious was fretting restlessly when she got back. The children
+were on the porch.
+
+"Nothing's the matter with him," Evangeline explained, "unless it's
+because he's a-goin' to be taken. I told him he was. It is kind of
+scaring to be taken. I feel kind of that way, too."
+
+"Taken where?"
+
+"Not any where--just _taken_. His picture an' mine an'
+Carruthers'--we're all goin' to be taken now, pretty soon. I must go
+home an' prink Elly Precious an' Carruthers. You see, Mr. Bradford
+promised to take Stefana because it's her birthday, an' first we knew he
+said he'd take all o' us! He's got a camera. That's him now! I guess
+he's waitin' for Elly Precious an' me."
+
+She was hurrying away, but bethought herself of something. "The cake!"
+she said. "If Elly Precious'll be still, I can carry it on my other arm.
+Maybe we'll be so busy being taken that I can't come over again before
+supper."
+
+"Run along," Miss Theodosia said; "I'll take it over. I haven't quite
+got it ready yet," for there were the two little pink hearts to
+add,--Stefana's heart and a little dream-heart. She smiled tenderly over
+the fashioning of those little pink hearts. Miss Theodosia was not an
+artist--they wavered and leaned, but they leaned toward each other!
+Perhaps they were better to be little leaning hearts.
+
+She carried the cake over, covered with a napkin. There were other
+things, too, that she had prepared, and several trips were necessary. A
+mold of quivering, scarlet jelly, full of fascinating glints of light;
+scalloped, currant-rich cookies, a little platter of cold chicken--Miss
+Theodosia carried them all over covered with napkins.
+
+Evangeline was putting the finishing touches to the supper-table, which
+was brave with the best Flagg dishes. It was rather a pitiful little
+bravery, but satisfying to Evangeline. She hurried Miss Theodosia aside
+and talked very fast.
+
+"I've sent Stefana out with Elly Precious. We're goin' to blind her an'
+lead her in an' count one--two--_look_! She'll see the cake the very
+quickest thing! She won't cut off an inch o' the stems, so they're kind
+of tall up 'n' down, you see. I mean the roses. I've put a corset steel
+o' Mother's in an' kind of tied 'em to it. I hope you don't see any
+corset steel."
+
+"No." Miss Theodosia looked not at the centerpiece of roses but at the
+cake, the tremulous jelly, the platter,--anywhere else. "No, I don't see
+any, dear."
+
+"It's perfectly lovely, isn't it? Mercy gracious--oh, mercy gracious!
+It'll _dazzle_ Stefana. An' most every speck you did, Miss Theodosia.
+Won't you please stay? Won't you _please_ to please?"
+
+"No," for the sixth time persisted Miss Theodosia. "I'm going before
+Stefana gets back. This is a Flagg celebration, dear. Just little
+Flaggs."
+
+Evangeline drew a long breath. Then little twinkles lighted in her eyes.
+
+"Well," she said, "they'll be star-spangled Flaggs to-night!"
+
+She followed Miss Theodosia to the door. Even then she could not stop
+talking. Her excited little voice followed Miss Theodosia home.
+
+"He took us! He's blue-printing us to see if we wiggled. Elly Precious
+did--mercy gracious! But maybe one of him, just one, didn't. He's goin'
+to make reg'lar black an' white pictures of the unwiggled ones. I guess
+you'll be surprised when you see us!" She was surprised. John Bradford
+brought the little blue pictures to her the next day. They bent over
+them together.
+
+"Oh!" Miss Theodosia uttered softly, for the pictures were instantly
+tangled in her heartstrings. She could hardly bear the one unwiggled one
+of Elly Precious. He was draped in tall red roses; they covered his
+little body and trailed their stems about his outspread legs. He had the
+effect of peeping at Miss Theodosia through roses. But what she could
+see of him was Elly Precious--her baby.
+
+"Stefana posed him," the Story Man said, smilingly. "And Evangeline and
+Carruthers, too. Look at Evangeline."
+
+Across Evangeline trailed the roses. It was a rigid, terribly rigid,
+Evangeline, but the roses saved her. Some softening grace emanated from
+them and touched the solemn little face. A little more of Evangeline
+than of Elly Precious peeped from behind them.
+
+"Carruthers!--et, tu, Carruthers!" murmured Miss Theodosia. For here
+again was the trail of the roses. Stefana had "posed" them in all the
+little pictures. The effect of a rose-draped Carruthers was almost
+startling. He gazed from behind them stolidly, unsmiling and
+unhappy-souled. Carruthers did not enjoy being taken.
+
+"Now look at Stefana," John Bradford said. This was his special
+exhibit--exhibit S. He watched Miss Theodosia's face as she glanced at
+the little blue print.
+
+No roses trailing there. Just a radiant-faced Stefana gazing at Miss
+Theodosia. It was the same face that hung on the walls of her memory.
+Miss Theodosia had the sense of roses there, out of sight; it was as if
+Stefana rocked them gently in her lap.
+
+"She wouldn't wear the flowers herself," the Story Man was saying;
+"Neither Evangeline nor I could make her. Queer little freak."
+
+"She is wearing them!" smiled Miss Theodosia, "I can see them. It's only
+because you are a man that you can't see,--you and Evangeline! Look at
+the roses in Stefana's eyes--in her soul--"
+
+"Oh, you woman! Women are curious things."
+
+"Women are romantic things--oh, you man! Why should you understand us
+Stefanas with your unsentimental soul-of-a-man? What do you know about
+our dreams?" She had not meant to say quite that. "Stefana's dreams,"
+she corrected herself. "What do you know about them? And still--"
+
+Miss Theodosia looked up from the radiant little face of Stefana with
+her dream-roses to the man-face beside her own.
+
+"And still--you sent the roses," she said softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+A letter came to Miss Theodosia one day. Queer how disturbing a letter
+could be when for so long peace had enveloped her travel-worn spirit,
+though it might have been because of the peace that she was disturbed.
+Ordinarily a letter from Cornelia Dunlap was the forerunner of
+interesting events to break the monotony of life. But life was not
+monotonous now, and it presented interesting events without the
+intervention--mentally and unkindly Miss Theodosia termed it
+interference--of Cornelia Dunlap.
+
+"Why need Cornelia write me now, or if she does write, why can't she
+talk about mushrooms?" which were Cornelia's most recent palliative to
+her self-imposed and brief sojourns in her little home town. It had been
+cats when she and Miss Theodosia returned from Spain, Belgian hares
+after their long stay in Egypt. Miss Theodosia herself had never tried
+mushrooms nor Belgian hares. She had borne her short homecomings
+unpalliated, and had flitted again relievedly. Usually she and Cornelia
+Dunlap had flitted together. They had formed the flitting habit when
+family bereavements had left them both lonely women.
+
+"Why must she write about Japan?" sighed Miss Theodosia now, over the
+disturbing letter. "What do I care about Japan?" Yet she always had
+cared about Japan. Cornelia Dunlap and she had left that delectable
+country of cherry blossoms and quaint, kimona-ed women for their old
+age, they said, to help them bear it. But Cornelia had forgotten that.
+
+"Let's go to Japan," she wrote. "I can pack in twenty-four hours; how
+long will it take you? We'll stay there till cherry blossom time.
+Frankly, Theodosia Baxter, I am bored, and you needn't tell me that you
+aren't--frankly--too. You haven't even mushrooms (they didn't earn their
+own living, my dear. I don't know what the trouble was). 'My native
+country, thee,'--I love it. I tell you I do! You know yourself that I
+never stay overnight in a place without unfurling my country's flag.
+Remember in sunny Italy?--the little brown bambino that cheered my
+colors? But I love my country best--in Japan! Come, dear, pack--pack! If
+I can leave my mushrooms, I guess you can leave your lonesome, big house
+in Nowhere."
+
+Miss Theodosia dreamed a little over her letter, of the little island of
+romance and flowers and fans. They did not need to wait; they could go
+again when they were old.
+
+She told John Bradford at their next meeting of the lure of Japan,
+though in her heart she was not lured. She was not "bored"; it was not a
+big, lonesome house in Nowhere! She would tell Cornelia Dunlap so. She
+would tell her that Flaggs were better than mushrooms--they earned their
+own living! Cornelia could run away alone to Japan to her cherry
+blossoms.
+
+But John Bradford had his scare, and through him Evangeline hers. Gloom
+settled on Evangeline. If her beloved lady was going away--the bitter,
+bitter taste of life without the beloved lady! But the inspiration that
+flashed into Evangeline's nimble mind temporarily comforted her. She set
+about its carrying-out. Inspirations were sweet morsels under
+Evangeline's tongue.
+
+To Miss Theodosia on her porch, telling Cornelia Dunlap that Japan had
+no lure, came a solemn procession across the grass. Evangeline led, with
+the effect of walking backward--though she walked straight ahead--and
+waving a baton. Stefana had Elly Precious, and Carrathers tramped
+soberly behind, in time to that imaginary wand. Miss Theodosia's
+fascinated gaze was riveted to the procession's arms. The wonder grew
+with nearness. Every individual parader in the procession wore a somber
+black arm-band. Elly Precious held his small member straight out from
+his side as if a little afraid of it.
+
+"Evangeline!" uttered Miss Theodosia. It did not occur to her to address
+any one but Evangeline. Instinctively she recognized that the procession
+was Evangeline.
+
+"Halt!" with an imaginary flourish. "Right about your faces!" Then
+Evangeline turned to Miss Theodosia and offered her sad little
+explanation.
+
+"We're in mournin'," she said. "All of us are--on our sleeves. Elly
+Precious's doesn't stay on very well."
+
+"Evangeline!" again cried Miss Theodosia, this time in a startled voice.
+Fears beset her. Was it the mother, or had poor Aunt Sarah raveled out?
+How could it have happened so suddenly--a bolt out of the clear little
+Flagg skies?
+
+"It's you," Evangeline said. Miss Theodosia settled a little in her
+chair and waited. In time--Evangeline's time--she would know. Elly
+Precious held out his rigid little mourning arm and softly whimpered.
+
+"Give him to me, Stefana; he wants to come to me," Miss Theodosia said,
+extending welcoming hands. Very gently she relieved the tension of the
+small arm.
+
+"We're in mournin' for you," Evangeline explained sadly. "_He_ said we
+might as well make up our minds, I tied a stockin' round his arm, but he
+took it off again because he said he didn't wear his stockin's--no, I
+guess it wasn't his stockin's; it was his heart--on his sleeves. But he
+said he was in mournin', too."
+
+Miss Theodosia gave it up. She appealed to Stefana in gentle despair.
+
+"You tell me, dear. What does she mean?"
+
+"We're so sorry you are going to Japan, and Evangeline said we ought to
+go into mourning, so we went," explained the quiet Stefana.
+
+"She cried; you know you did, Stefana Flagg! I would've, only I was
+gettin' the mournin' ready. I'm _goin_' to."
+
+"Don't cry!" Miss Theodosia said, though she was doing it herself. The
+pulling of her heartstrings! "Don't cry, Evangeline dear. I wish we
+could take back Stefana's tears."
+
+"You mean--you ain't goin'?"
+
+"I ain't goin'," repeated Miss Theodosia, tremulously smiling. "Japan! I
+wouldn't go to _six_ Japans!"
+
+"Then take it off o' our arms, quick! You take off Carruthers', Stefana.
+I'll undo Elly Precious's. Oh, goody! Oh, mercy gracious, I feel 's if
+we ought to take hold o' hands an'--an' _wave_!"
+
+At the end of her letter to Cornelia Dunlap Miss Theodosia wrote: "You
+can't tempt me with all your cherry blossoms. I've got home, Cornelia,
+and all my little Flaggs are waving. Come and see _my_ Flaggs."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+It was mid-September and Miss Theodosia found out-of-doors a pleasant
+place to be. She had made an errand down to the business portion of the
+little town for the sheer pleasure of the going and coming,--a morning
+errand, as the afternoons were sacred to tea,--and now was coming
+leisurely back, sniffing the sun-sweet air. She turned off the quiet,
+side street she had been using as a long way home, into the main street
+of the town, only to find her progress interrupted by unseemly and noisy
+crowds. Miss Theodosia loved all things seemly and quiet. How she
+despised a crowd, and this one--she brought up short in actual disgust
+on the outer edge of it. Thus was her stately little progress stayed.
+People surged about her and jostled her good-naturedly. She was in the
+crowd.
+
+"What is it? Has there been an accident?" she inquired of the nearest
+jostler. It was a ragged and radiant child.
+
+"Axident! Didn't ye know there was a circus? We're waitin' for the
+p'rade. I hear it! I hear it comin'!"
+
+The crowd surged ahead toward the street curb. Against her will, Miss
+Theodosia surged, too. Loud cries filled her ears--ecstatic cries of
+little children. Down the usually quiet street marched, in all its
+brilliancy of color and tinsel and tawdry splendor, the street parade.
+Horses curvetted, elephants patiently plodded, huge cars of mystery
+swung by; clowns smirked, to the riotous joy of that awful crowd.
+
+"See him sittin' tail to! That one there--there!"
+
+"Look-a that one with the spotted panth! Look at him throw kitheth!"
+
+"They's man-eatin' lions in that cage--see the lady sittin' with 'em!"
+
+"See that man top o' the band waggin that shoots up his neck
+_yards_--quick! See him shorten it again!"
+
+Miss Theodosia saw all, against her will. All her thirty-six years she
+had held aside her dainty skirts from people who went to circuses, but
+how could she hold them aside now? There was not room. She was caught in
+the swirl and noise and glee.
+
+Suddenly a familiar voice struck her ear. Evangeline's voice! Drawn up
+on the curbing in a vantage-spot that only they who come early and
+patiently wait can secure, was the entire family of little Flaggs. At a
+new angle Miss Theodosia was able to see plainly their breathless
+ecstasy. She could hear what Evangeline was saying.
+
+"Oh, isn't it elegant--oh, look, Stefana! Oh, don't you hope circuses'll
+be free in Heaven--not jus' the p'rade, but the show!"
+
+Then and there Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed unmercifully; she
+could not do anything with them; they would throb. In vain she turned
+away--looked at other faces--listened to other voices. It was Evangeline
+she heard, with her wistful cry, and the little line of Flaggs that she
+saw.
+
+"There's Miss Theodosia--there, there, Stefana! She's come to the
+p'rade!"
+
+"Miss Theodosia! Miss Theodosia! Look, Elly Precious, quick!" And it was
+Elly Precious she saw, held high by eager arms. That minute she yielded
+to the wild impulse within. She pressed forward to speaking distance.
+
+"Who will go to the show with me this afternoon? All in favor say aye."
+
+"Mercy gracious, you don't honest mean--"
+
+"Miss Theodosia!" Stefana's lean little face actually whitened.
+
+"I honest mean. Isn't anybody going to say aye?"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+The joyous chorus of "I's"! The jubilant waving of every little Flagg!
+For the moment, the gorgeous tinseled parade was forgotten in the vaster
+anticipative glories of the show. Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed
+a little louder but tunefully. She had forgotten her skirts.
+
+Shows begin early and last long. Miss Theodosia's show began at the
+opening of the gates. She and her little string of followers filed in.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Evangeline in awesome delight at the vision
+spread before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Miss Theodosia. They were different mercy
+graciouses. But a miracle was on the way to her, coming straight and
+fast through the crowds of festive circus-goers. Very soon now--in an
+hour--in another moment--It arrived! Miss Theodosia felt herself
+yielding to the lure of the sawdust and the side shows--the pink
+lemonade and the balloons. She was entering in! She was not Miss
+Theodosia who detested crowds; in the tight grip of the miracle, she was
+Miss Theodosia who thrilled and enjoyed.
+
+"Isn't it elegant? Oh, aren't you happy!" cried Evangeline.
+
+"Aren't I!" gallant Miss Theodosia responded. She caught Evangeline's
+sleeve. "What is that man shouting about--there, in front of that big
+tent?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, but it's somethin' splendid. I know it's somethin'
+splendid! I'll go 'n' see."
+
+"I'll go with you. Stefana, stay with the rest of the children. We'll be
+right back." Miss Theodosia laughed as she and Evangeline went, hand in
+hand. In a moment they were back for the rest. It was "somethin'
+splendid"--come! come!
+
+They drank pink lemonade and ate ice-cream cones. Elly Precious and
+Carruthers waved gay balloons. Evangeline chose a cane.
+
+"I need one. I'm so happy I tumble over! I never was so happy 'xcept
+when Elly Precious stopped havin' the measles. That was as splendid as
+this, but it wasn't as _splendid_ splendid. Miss Theodosia, don't you
+feel all beautiful and jiggy inside?"
+
+"All beautiful and jiggy!" nodded Miss Theodosia, wondering a little
+whether it was all circus or some pink lemonade.
+
+"I like the wholeness of it best," Stefana said, taking in the animated
+scene with an artist's eye.
+
+"I don't! I like the every little speckness of it," Evangeline chirped.
+"I like that 'normous big tent an' that tiny little one--I like that
+balloon man--I like that little darky baby--isn't he black as the ace of
+space, Miss Theodosia! Oh, I like every blade o'--sawdust!" Her laugh
+trilled out gayly.
+
+"But we haven't seen it yet--the show."
+
+"Miss Theodosia! You don't honest mean we're goin' in? Stefana, she
+does--she means! We're goin' in!" As of course they were. The best seats
+in the great tented arena were none too good for them. Stefana
+laboriously shut up Elly Precious' go-cart, and Miss Theodosia lifted
+Elly Precious in her arms. In the procession they sought those
+best-of-all seats. What followed, even Evangeline gazed upon in silence;
+there were no words in Evangeline's dictionary for what followed. She
+sat on the edge of the best-of-all seat and drank in riders and clowns
+and dizzy performing fairies--an intoxicating draught.
+
+"Miss Theodosia," in a tiny whisper.
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Ain't you glad you ain't dead? 'Cause you don't need to be." Which was
+Evangeline's way of complimenting Heaven. There was no need of dying to
+find out its marvels--not now. Miss Theodosia slipped one of the small
+hands into hers and squeezed it; squeezing established understanding.
+They knew--they understood.
+
+"Well, upon my word!" a deep voice exclaimed behind them. With one
+accord Miss Theodosia and her Flaggs wheeled about. The Tract
+Man--Shadow Man--Reformed Doctor stood there, smiling. He was eating
+popcorn from a paper bag. Transferring the bag to Evangeline, he held
+out his hands for the baby.
+
+"You here?" Miss Theodosia exclaimed stupidly.
+
+"Yes--are you?"
+
+Every one laughed. Laughing was so easy! Elly Precious from his lofty
+shoulder-post clapped small, joyous hands and crowed. In the ring a
+clown threw them kisses. A fairy in short, silvery skirts rode by on two
+horses. "Wait! Watch her--watch her!" Evangeline whispered hissingly.
+"She's goin' to jump through a hoop o' fire! Without burnin' up!"
+
+John Bradford leaned forward to Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Having a good time?" he whispered.
+
+"Grand! Are you?"
+
+"Hunkydory!" He might have been a boy, she a girl. These might have been
+little Flagg brothers--sisters.
+
+"We must have cones--ice-cream cones," he said.
+
+"We've had 'em," piped Evangeline.
+
+"We must have more cones, and cracker-jack."
+
+"We've had crackerjack."
+
+"We must have more crackerjack. Where is the Crackerjack Boy?"
+
+At the end of the show in the ring they took a vote and decided to stay
+to see it all over again. What did it matter if they had seen the tinsel
+fairy jump through her fiery hoop or the acrobats perform their wonders?
+They felt acquainted now. They were gazing, enchanted, at friends.
+
+"My clown's lookin' at me! I'm goin' to bow to him."
+
+"Mine's threw me a kiss!"
+
+Stefana, more refined in taste, had adopted a beauteous creature in gold
+and blue, and starry spangles. Her beauteous lady waved a scepter at her
+as she glided by.
+
+"She's got so many ruffles on! An' they're beau-ti-fully done up!"
+sighed Stefana in gentle envy of some unknown artist in starch.
+
+"Now what?" demanded the man of the party at length. "Anybody want to
+stay here any longer? Or shall we discover new territory?" He took
+Evangeline aside and questioned her.
+
+"Have you seen everything out there?" indicating the attractions without
+the big tent.
+
+"We've seen a nawful lot. We've had a nelegant time," Evangeline
+whispered back. Desire and loyalty to Miss Theodosia fought a duel in
+her small breast and the issue was yet doubtful.
+
+"Isn't there something left that you'd like to see?" The order was
+changed; here was man tempting woman. Desire won the duel with one
+mighty blow. Evangeline tiptoed up as near his ear as possible and
+breathed two words.
+
+John Bradford turned to the little crowd.
+
+"We'll go to see the Fat Lady," he said to Miss Theodosia; "I'll take
+the kiddies, while you sit down somewhere and rest.
+
+"Sit down somewhere? Haven't I been sitting down somewhere? Don't you
+suppose I want to see the Fat Lady, too?" laughed Miss Theodosia. Fat
+ladies appealed to her invitingly, in this remarkable mood of hers--Miss
+Theodosia's circus mood.
+
+"You're playing the game like a trump! I didn't dream you could
+'pretend' a circus was yours. Must be some harder than pretending
+babies--" John Bradford got no farther. She turned indignant eyes upon
+him.
+
+"'Game'--'pretend'--I'd have you know I'm having a nelegant time! You
+must be the Pretender."
+
+"Me? I'm having the time of my life! I am going to put a circus into my
+love story."
+
+"This circus?"
+
+"This identical one."
+
+"With me and the little Flaggs in it?"
+
+"You--and the little Flaggs."
+
+They had fallen behind the children, and a side eddy of the crowd had
+flowed between. The Fat Lady was at the further end of the grounds, but
+there was no hurry; she would remain just as fat a Fat Lady if they
+pleasantly dallied a little. Stefana had, with the deftness of
+genius-born skill, solved the puzzle of opening the folded-up go-cart,
+and the Man Person of the party was no longer burdened with Elly
+Precious.
+
+Suddenly into the pleasant dallying leaped Carruthers with terrified
+little face.
+
+"They're lost! We can't find 'em! I can't an' Stefana can't. They ain't
+anywhere! We were lookin' at a man with turkles you wind up, an' when we
+stopped lookin' they weren't there--not anywhere. They ain't anywhere!
+Not any--'
+
+"Stop him!" begged Miss Theodosia. "He'll keep right on anywhere-ing. We
+must find Stefana."
+
+"Stefana said--oh, I couldn't hear what Stefana said, but she pointed
+an' pointed, an' I came lickety. They're lost! They ain't anywhere!"
+
+Stefana appearing here, the story was repeated. Like that--Stefana
+snapped her fingers--they had disappeared.
+
+"I've hunted and hunted. Everybody's seen children with go-carts, but
+they weren't Evangeline 'n' Elly Precious."
+
+Miss Theodosia's own face was pale, but she achieved a light laugh.
+
+"No wonder you haven't found them yet! In this crowd. It takes
+time;--you tell them to be patient and we'll find the right go-cart."
+She appealed to the Man Person.
+
+"Sure, we'll find the right go-cart! Where do you think they could have
+vanished? Down a hole in the ground?"
+
+Miss Theodosia clapped her hands valiantly. "That's it! Evangeline found
+a hole and took Elly Precious down, to show him the White Rabbit and the
+Red Queen! Evangeline would love to be an Alice in Wonderland. Go and
+find the hole," to the Man Person. "I'll stay right in this spot with
+the children. See, in front of this ice-cream tent."
+
+"Good idea!--I'll bring them back with me unless you find them first."
+
+But they were not with him when he returned half an hour later. In spite
+of himself, he looked anxious.
+
+"Queer thing! What color dress did she have on? I've tried to remember."
+
+"Pink--oh, pink!" sobbed Stefana, "but it was most washed out. It had
+two tucks let down, an' it was limpy in the skirt, behind--the starch
+gave out." There were so many Evangelines, but it didn't seem as if
+there'd be another Evangeline limpy behind! "An' Elly Precious's lower
+teeth are through, and his shoes are buttoned inside, I remember now! We
+were in such a hurry--there wouldn't be another baby buttoned inside."
+
+After still further vain hunting, John Bradford sent the three home.
+
+"You may find Evangeline there, getting supper!" he said, "but I'll stay
+here on the chance you don't. I'll investigate every hole on the
+grounds! Don't anybody worry--now, mind! There's nothing to worry
+about."
+
+"Fat Lady!" Miss Theodosia suddenly exclaimed as one with inspiration.
+"We've never thought of her; that's where they've gone! Evangeline
+couldn't wait. She had some pennies."
+
+"I've investigated the Fat Lady--no good. They don't let go-carts in,
+and there weren't any outside. But, of course, I can go the whole
+figure, to make sure. I'll go all the whole figures. Can't you trust
+me?"
+
+"We can. Come, children. I'll coach you on Wonderland, so if Evangeline
+is there you'll know what she is seeing! Gryphons, Mock 'Turkles,' Mad
+Hatters--a circus within a circus! It's so much like Evangeline to find
+that White Rabbit hole!" Miss Theodosia clung determinedly to a cheerful
+view of the situation. But, secretly, she worried. As the time went on,
+she worried harder. Two babies--one wheeling the other! What was
+Evangeline but a baby?
+
+Miss Theodosia took the two little surviving Flaggs to her own home and
+plied them with goodies--many goodies. She unearthed from hiding-places
+candied ginger and guava jelly; she invented toys for the deaf little
+Flagg and occupations for Stefana. She found a dog-eared copy of
+"Alice," dear to her own childhood, and read to Stefana--anything to
+occupy the waiting. It was long waiting!
+
+It grew dark. Once Miss Theodosia heard heavy steps trying painstakingly
+to be light ones. She found the Man Person outside the door.
+
+"Nothing yet? You haven't any trace--" It was needless asking.
+
+"You don't think--"
+
+"Of course, I don't think! Nothing on earth could happen to those
+kiddies."
+
+"Automobiles--"
+
+"Aren't allowed on the grounds, and you couldn't have got Evangeline off
+the grounds with a tackle and falls. I know what I think."
+
+"Then tell it--mercy gracious!"
+
+"I think it's Evangeline that's happened. Mark my words! Now I'm going
+back again. I just came to--I suppose I thought I was coming to relieve
+your mind!" He laughed sorrily and softly.
+
+"Oh, go--yes, go! It's--it's long past Elly Precious' bedtime." He could
+hear soft sobbing as he went away. Miss Theodosia was mourning for her
+baby. The Man Person's throat tightened; he broke into a run.
+
+Stefana met Miss Theodosia at an inner door. She had her hat on and
+Carruthers by the hand.
+
+"I'm going home to put him to bed. I--I shan't look at the clothes
+basket. But if Elly Precious is dead, I'll put wh-white ribbons on the
+h-handles!" With a moan, Stefana threw herself into the kind arms of
+Elly Precious' friend who loved him, too!
+
+"Hush, dear! Elly Precious isn't dead, but I hope he is asleep.
+Evangeline, I know, will take care of him. Let's trust Evangeline."
+
+"Maybe she's dead, too!"
+
+"Stefana! I'm disappointed. I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+"I am!" sobbed Stefana, gathering herself together. Miss Theodosia
+watched her go quietly away, hand in hand with the little brother that
+was left. But Miss Theodosia was no longer brave. Sudden terrors seized
+upon her. She remembered how round and white Elly Precious was--how he
+showed the little teeth that had got through--how he had loved to watch
+Evangeline dance, through the window.
+
+"Theodosia Baxter, I'm disappointed! I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+As she stood in the moist darkness, a sound came to her--too soft for a
+man-sound. It grew a very little more distinct.
+
+"Miss Theodosia--sh! he's gettin' ready to go off. I want him to go off
+soon's I get him home--I don't want to 'xcite him. I jus' came to tell
+you--"
+
+"Evangeline! Have you got him there?"
+
+The softest of giggles. "Why, of course! He's too valuable to leave
+anywheres. Leave a Best Baby! That's the s'prise! He's a prize baby,
+Elly Precious is! I've got it in my pocket!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+"I've got to take him home an' bed him down!" Horsey little Evangeline!
+"Then I'll come back an' show it to you. Isn't it puffectly elegant that
+he took a prize! We've had the best time!" And in the darkness Miss
+Theodosia heard soft, retreating steps and the faintest creak of wheels.
+Left alone, she leaned for support on the porch pillar, overcome by the
+Evangelineness of Evangeline. And they had all had so far from the "best
+time"--they had suffered so!
+
+"Mercy gracious!" sighed Miss Theodosia weakly, but aloud.
+
+"What did I tell you?" The Man Person's voice! What kind of a ghostly
+night was this? "Didn't I say it was Evangeline that had happened, 'mark
+my words'? Well, wasn't it?"
+
+"Tell me instantly how she 'happened'! I'm all in the dark."
+
+"Same here. Can't see an inch before my nose. If we had a lamp--"
+
+"Didn't she tell you? Didn't she come home with you?"
+
+"No--no, I came home with her. Behind her--she didn't know. Wanted to
+let her do the whole thing alone. I confess I was curious."
+
+"Curious! After hunting hours and hours--"
+
+"'Curious--after--hunting--hours--and hours,'" he intoned. She could
+hear him getting ready to laugh. "The moment I caught sight of the
+little imp, I forgot I was tired. Whatever she's been up to, it's
+something interesting. May I wait and hear her tell about it?"
+
+"Of course you may! I should think you'd earned admittance." Miss
+Theodosia was sizzling gently with perfectly natural irritation. Now
+that her baby was safe, she had leisure to be irritated.
+
+"Come and rest in the easiest chair you can find. When I think--"
+
+"Don't think! Let's just have cups of tea and wait for the show to
+begin."
+
+"But why aren't you cross? I am."
+
+The man-voice in the dark was soothing.
+
+"Oh, no, you only think you are, dear lady. You are deceiving yourself.
+Crossness and--er--nerve-itis are two very different diseases (you note
+I term them both diseases). I speak as One Who Did Once Know."
+
+Miss Theodosia, on her way for cups of tea, paused in her dim doorway.
+
+"Diseases change so. In ten years--"
+
+"In ten years 'nerve-itis' has lost none of its pep--rather annexed
+more. It may have another name."
+
+"Nerve-itus Dance," murmured the voice in the doorway. "That's
+it--that's what I was having when you came. I don't think I am quite
+over the attack yet."
+
+"Three lumps of sugar dissolved in a cup of tea," prescribed the
+man-voice promptly. "Repeat the dose in five minutes. Never known to
+fail. As a preventive of--er--contagion, it is well for any also who
+have been exposed--"
+
+"I'll have it there in a minute. The kettle's boiling," called Miss
+Theodosia from interior regions. She came back presently with a tray lit
+by a tiny flare of candle-light.
+
+ "'How far that little candle throws his beams--
+ So shines a good deed in a naughty world'"
+
+quoted he. "The good deed is the good tea."
+
+"And the naughty world is Evangeline. Won't you have three lumps just
+this time, to make perfectly sure you don't contract my Nerve-itus
+Dance?"
+
+"Safety first," he laughed. "Four lumps. This is our first tea-party at
+'Candle-lighting Time,' isn't it?"
+
+Now Miss Theodosia laughed. It was easy to laugh with Elly Precious
+being bedded down instead of lost.
+
+"How you do quote to-night!" she said. "That's the third time, counting
+'Safety First,' in the last five minutes."
+
+"Pardon," he craved. "It's because I feel happy. I'm likely to quote again
+at any minute."
+
+"Well, quote the Scriptures then to Evangeline when she comes."
+
+"Hark!"
+
+She was coming now. They could hear the light, hurrying steps. Was
+Evangeline never tired? Did neither parades nor circuses--mysterious
+wanderings nor mysterious triumphs--affect her?
+
+"The show is about to begin," murmured Miss Theodosia.
+
+It began immediately. Evangeline came bursting in upon them, waving a
+blue ribbon. She was a fresh and radiant Evangeline.
+
+"Stefana says I can't stay only a minute. Stefana's kind o' mad, but she
+didn't dass to be, out loud, for fear we'd 'xcite Elly Precious. He's
+asleep. I was so proud of his arms an' legs when I undressed 'em!
+They're very high-percented arms 'n' legs. Mercy gracious, yes! Don't
+you see this ribbon's blue--blue--blue! That's because he's a Best Baby,
+an' the prize was five dollars, an' they gave him a dollar 'special,'
+too, that we're goin' to put in the bank--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up her hand.
+
+"Begin at the beginning," she commanded. "Where have you been all this
+time? What on earth have you been doing?"
+
+"Showin' Elly Precious," flashed back Evangeline brightly. "You've heard
+o' Poultry Shows? Well, this wasn't. This was a Baby Show. We never
+noticed it was advertised in the p'rade at all--a man with a sandwich
+on. A lady told me. She said the circus folks were pretty bright,
+because all o' the world loved babies an' they knew 'twould make a
+beautiful side show. She said they knew it would draw, an' it did. It
+drew me an' Elly Precious! The circus folks offered prizes. They weighed
+an' measured 'em to see which was a Best Baby, an' Elly Precious was!
+You better be proud that you--that you measled a Best Baby!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's glance met the Man Person's. The show was turning out
+well.
+
+"I've got to go back, or Stefana--oh, mercy gracious me, it was worth
+folks bein' mad! There was a nurse there an' a lovely lady an' a doctor.
+They let me stay Elly Precious's nap out, because it isn't a sleep
+go-cart. He has to sit up straight in it. The lady said to lie him down
+there an' let him sleep. But we didn't expect he'd sleep so long--the
+lady went away, but I stayed. I wasn't goin' to wake a Best Baby up out
+o' a sound sleep! It made us a little late gettin' home."
+
+"Yes, go on," murmured the Man Person feelingly.
+
+"Why, that's as far as there is to go. Then we came home."
+
+"Why didn't you go back and tell Stefana or Miss Theodosia? Where was
+your Baby Show, anyway?"
+
+"In a tent. I happened to get a peek in an' saw folks with babies, an' I
+was a folks with one, so I just went in. That's all. I was goin' to tell
+Stefana, but he cried an' I couldn't leave him. He wouldn't have took a
+prize, cryin'. I had to keep dancin' to him--mercy gracious! But it was
+worth it. Then when he'd got all measured an' weighed,--it's pretty
+wearin' work,--he went to sleep. I told you that. I had to wait for him
+to wake up." For the first time Evangeline was on the defensive; she
+read the faint disapproval in Miss Theodosia's face.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I never s'posed you'd go an' worry! I thought--I
+thought you'd jus' be pur-roud." Actually, Evangeline was crying now.
+Miss Theodosia's disapproval vanished instantly. With a sweep of her
+arms, she gathered a forgiven Evangeline in. The Man Person stood
+outside the little zone of feminine emotion, but he had his own brand.
+
+"We _are_ pur-roud," Miss Theodosia crooned over the subdued little
+figure. "It's perfectly splendid about the blue ribbon and the prize!"
+
+"An' the special."
+
+"An' the special. Think of what his mother will say! But I knew he was
+the Best Baby all the time; it was written in between every little
+measle!" And saving laughter righted the situation; Evangeline bounded
+back to her usual spirits. "Now," Miss Theodosia said, "I'll get you
+some preserved ginger and shoo you home! You mustn't stay another
+minute, or Stefana will surely be over here with a policeman."
+
+"Stefana's proud, too--she needn't pretend! I saw her kissin' Elly
+Precious's knee. But she'll scold; she thinks it's her duty. Mercy
+gracious, when Aunt Sarah knits an' Mother's back, I hope Stefana'll
+grow down again."
+
+The Man Person poised his teacup above the saucer, arrested by this new
+puzzle.
+
+"Er--grow how?"
+
+"Down. She's so terrible grown-up now. It's been pretty wearin' on my
+nerves. We use' to play dolls together. We don't ever now. She's too
+starched up."
+
+"Poor Stefana with her starch!" murmured Miss Theodosia. The poor little
+martyr to starch! It was to be hoped, indeed, that when Aunt Sarah knit,
+Stefana could grow down again and play dolls.
+
+"Do you know her mother--Evangeline's?" Miss Theodosia asked, after the
+child had gone. "Is Evangeline like her;--is that where she gets her
+Evangelineness?"
+
+"No, she must get it from the father. The mother is exactly like
+Stefana, or may be I've got it the wrong end to. I never saw the father;
+he died a few weeks before the baby was born."
+
+"Well, the father must have been remarkable; somebody is responsible for
+Evangeline. I love that child next to--my baby. Supposing--I think of it
+sometimes--supposing I had staid in Rome or Paris or Farthest
+Anyplace--not come home at all, you know,--then I should have missed it
+all. I should never have known those children."
+
+"Nor me," he ventured. She did not appear to hear, but went on musingly:
+
+"Something sent me home--I needed those children."
+
+"And me!"
+
+"I was going on a fast train--a through express--straight to Lonesome
+Land!"
+
+She laughed softly as if she were alone. "If Evangeline hadn't Flagged
+my train--it was Evangeline! She switched me off on another track."
+Miss Theodosia's tender eyes lifted and met the Man Person's with a
+little start of recognition as if saying: "Why, are you here!" But she
+met those other eyes staunchly. "I'm glad I stopped off at this Flagg
+station. I like it here."
+
+For a little the big room, bright with lamplight, was so still that the
+clock ticked impertinently. Miss Theodosia's tea cooled in its cup, and
+John Bradford had long ago forgotten his. The big hands on the
+chair-arms gripped them unconsciously. Then, suddenly, the man got to
+his feet and walked to the far end of the room. On his return he stopped
+before Miss Theodosia, looking down.
+
+"I love you," John Bradford said. The impertinent clock kept on, but
+Miss Theodosia could not hear it now for the ticking of her heart. Was
+she a frightened girl that she could not lift her eyes?
+
+"I was on that express, too--bound for that same place. I thank the Lord
+I got off here. I shall always thank Him, whether you can love me or
+not. I shall always love you. If you thought, sometime--I can wait--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's eyes lifted. But she shook her head.
+
+"I'm afraid not--sometime."
+
+He still stood, looking down. Very gently he touched her hair; she could
+hear the long breath he drew.
+
+"I was afraid so. It was too much to ask. But I had to take my chance.
+Don't be distressed, dear. I am happy, loving you. You can't deny me
+that! I've loved you ever since I found you mending my shirt. I have had
+a beautiful time loving you, and it will keep right on. But I was crazy,
+wasn't I, to think--of course you 'couldn't sometime.'"
+
+"Because I love you now," she said steadily. "I have--I have just found
+it out!"
+
+The gently stroking hand ceased its work. John Bradford caught the sweet
+face between his great palms and turned it upward to his.
+
+"Dear!" he cried. He was a boy, she a girl. Love has no age. It swept
+over them, a young sweet tide. This man--this woman. There was no one
+else in the world then.
+
+"Dear!" she whispered, matching her love-word to his, "and I never knew
+till a minute ago!"
+
+"I always knew. The shirt had no part in it! I have loved you since the
+world began and the morning stars sang! You were made for me to love;
+all these years I have been waiting for you, dear."
+
+"All these years!" she repeated a little sadly--"that reminds us. But we
+are not old! I won't be--I won't have you be! What is time, anyway?"
+
+"Nothing!" He blew it away in a whiff of scorn. "What is anything but
+that I love you and you love me? We are just born now--this is our
+birthday! May I kiss you on your birthday, dear? Will you kiss me on
+mine?"
+
+The clock must have stopped in very astonishment at this scandal of
+grown love playing young love. At any rate, there was only the sound of
+the young love in the room. The room sang with the beautiful sound of
+it.
+
+It seemed a very long time afterward that John Bradford asked his
+man-question: "When?"
+
+"When your book is written--the love story. Not till then."
+
+"It's getting on beautifully!" he pleaded. "It never will be done.
+There's going to be no end to the chapters."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Where are you now?"
+
+"The heroine has just said yes. The hero has just kissed her--he is just
+going to kiss her ag--"
+
+"Mercy--mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks flooded pink. She
+held up a staying hand.
+
+"Wait--till I get--get used to being a heroine! Am I? Was _that_ the
+love story?"
+
+"That was the love story. I have been working on it every day. Some days
+I had set-backs--when the heroine flung things in my face about reformed
+doctors, and times like that."
+
+"She took them back again, those things. She was a kind sort of a
+heroine."
+
+"She was a dear. He wanted to kiss her when she took them back, those
+things. I had all _I_ could do to keep him from it. He was a tough sort
+of a hero to work with. I had my hands full."
+
+"Did you love--did the hero love the heroine when they sat drinking cups
+of tea?"
+
+"A little harder every cup."
+
+"When they nursed the measles?"
+
+"A little more every measle."
+
+"When they went to the circus?" She drew a long, happy breath. "I like
+to have been that heroine! Dear, is it right to be as happy as this? For
+old folks, I mean--near-olds? Oughtn't we to knock on wood? Oh, I've
+just thought of Evangeline. What will Evangeline say?"
+
+"Something Evangelical," he laughed. "I hope I'll be there."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Evangeline had excitements of her own. As though prizes for Best Babies
+were not enough, a new excitement began the very next day. Two
+excitements--one on the lovely heels of the other. Evangeline, gasping
+in the joyous throes of the first-comer, raced over to Miss Theodosia,
+as she had learned to race with troubles as well as joys. All the way
+she emitted sounds approximating steam-whistles. The very nature of the
+news she was carrying suggested the sounds she made carrying it.
+
+"The elegantest thing has happened--I mean's goin' to!" She could not
+wait to get quite there, but sent her news ahead of her through the
+transmitting medium of air. Miss Theodosia, on her porch, sat dreaming
+her love's young dream--young, not old; not old!
+
+"The elegant elegantest! He's goin' to be cured! He won't be deaf o'
+hearin' any more! I mean he thinks he won't--I mean _he_--"
+
+"Sit down on the step, dear. Count ten, then start again."
+
+"Onetwothreefour--oh, I can't wait to get to ten! If your little brother
+had always been deaf o' hearin' an' a doctor looked into him with a
+spy-glass an' said I think this boy can be cured, I'm goin' to take him
+to a hospital an' have him operated when his mother is willin' if she
+gets home--I mean if she gets home when she's willin'--oh, I mean--"
+
+"Yes, dear. Sit still. I understand, and I think she will be willing
+when she gets home, don't you? Oh, Evangeline, won't we all be happy to
+have Carruthers cured of his poor little deafness o' hearing! I know the
+doctor, and he knows ears! We'll trust him, Evangeline. He will do
+everything in the world there is to be done. And we'll stay at home and
+pray."
+
+"Pray!" cried Evangeline. Her little thin face lifted to the blue
+heavens. "I've woke up right slap in the middle o' nights an' prayed:
+'Oh, Lord, that made a little children an' forgot his ears, do somethin'
+now--don't you think you'd ought to, O Lord? It don't seem fair not to.
+He ain't ever heard Elly Precious crow, nor laugh--think o' that, dear
+Lord.'" The shrill voice dropped suddenly. "But He never." Evangeline
+sighed.
+
+"Till now, dear--we hope He will now. He and the doctor who knows ears.
+I thought you were so pleased and that you were--"
+
+"Oh, yes'm, oh, I am! It was just--I was thinkin' how lovely Elly
+Precious's laugh sounds an' Carruthers not ever hearin' it. So far, I
+mean." Evangeline caught her courage again in both hands. "But he'll
+laugh 'nough more times when he can hear--I mean when Carruthers can.
+Won't it be puffectly elegant!"
+
+It was later in the same day when the second excitement struck the
+little House of Flaggs. Evangeline raced again across the separating
+green grass to Miss Theodosia. This time she went at reduced speed
+because she had Elly Precious over her shoulder. Miss Theodosia saw them
+coming and smiled.
+
+"More news! I know it is puffectly elegant by Evangeline's face. Well,
+Evangeline?"
+
+"Mercy gracious! Take him before I spill him! I'm so happy I joggle.
+She's knittin' an' she's comin' home! I mean knittin' _enough_. She said
+'my--dear--children--I--expect--to--be--home--to-morrow
+--Aunt--Sarah--is--better--an'--I--can't
+wait--to--see--you--your--mother--' Mercy gracious, when Stefana got to
+your mother, seemed as if I'd burst! We hollered it to Carruthers, an'
+he burst! An' Elly Precious knows she's comin', I know he knows. Tickle
+him an' see how pleased he is!" Without comma or semicolon, to say
+nothing of periods, Evangeline panted on. Out of breath at last, her
+voice sat down an instant, as it were, to rest. It was up again in a
+moment.
+
+"To-morrow is most to-day! It'll be to-day to-morrow! Oh, mercy gracious
+me! We're goin' to sweep under everything an' behind--every las' thing,
+under 'n' behind. She won't find a grain o' dust. An' Stefana's makin'
+starch."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" softly ejaculated Miss Theodosia.
+
+"I mean to eat in the dessert--corn-starch. We've begun to skim Elly
+Precious's bottles. You can eat thin bottles, can't you, darlin' dear,
+when Mother's comin' home? Corn-starch has to have cream on it--when
+Mother's comin' home!" She laughed joyously. All past and creamless
+corn-starches were a joke. Laughing at them was easy at this happy
+moment.
+
+"Isn't it splendid Aunt Sarah went to knittin'? Mercy gracious, I hope
+she won't--won't drop a stitch for Mother to have to stay an' pick up!"
+Evangeline's laugh trilled out once more.
+
+"Do you suppose you'd dass to cut Elly Precious's hair, Miss Theodosia,
+while I danced like everything an' made faces? Dutchy, you know, in the
+back o' his neck--he's straggly now. I'd make awful faces--"
+
+"I wouldn't 'dass,' dear," smiled Miss Theodosia. "I never could cut
+fast enough and you never could dance hard enough--we'd hurt him."
+
+"Well, she'll look at the front o' him first--never mind. We're goin' to
+put on that darlin' little ni'gown you made, for a dress--belt it in,
+you know, with a ribbon off the handle o' the clo'es-basket; Stefana's
+ironed it out. An' we're goin' to pin on his blue ribbon prize."
+
+John Bradford came that evening to sit on the porch in the soft warmth
+that autumn had borrowed from summers-to-come, with promissory note to
+pay it back when lovers were through with it. Miss Theodosia met him
+with the news.
+
+"Mustn't it be beautiful to be welcomed home like that, dear? If you
+could have seen Evangeline's little shiny face! And the way Elly
+Precious laughed--when I tickled him! And, oh, John--Do you hear me
+call you John? I thought it would be hard!"
+
+"'And, oh, John--'" he prompted, putting it yet further off by a
+kiss-length.
+
+"Oh, John, I know about Carruthers. You're going to take him away to
+cure him."
+
+"To try to cure him," John Bradford said gravely.
+
+"You'll do it, dear--you and the Lord! Evangeline and I are trusting.
+Hark, she is coming! No one else sounds like that!"
+
+"No one else gallops--canters--breaks speed limits!" he laughed. "Now
+what? More news?"
+
+The same news over again, but Evangeline saw that which momentarily
+banished it from her mind. She saw John Bradford standing behind Miss
+Theodosia's chair; she saw him stoop over it.
+
+"Mercy gracious, he kissed her!" gasped Evangeline. Something told her
+to turn and gallop back, but she could not stop in time. She was already
+at the foot of the steps. Awful embarrassment seized her--seized
+Evangeline! In the faint, reflected lamplight from within the house she
+could see the two above her looking down. Mercy gracious!
+
+"Sit down, Evangeline."
+
+"I'm s-sittin'--I _think_ I'm sittin' down." Up-standings and
+down-sittings were confused in the general dizziness of things. Perhaps
+she was standing up.
+
+"You're not sick, are you, Evangeline? You're not saying anything."
+
+Then Evangeline said something.
+
+"I--I saw him--doin' it, I mean. Mercy gracious, _what'll I do_?" For
+some inherited delicacy of instinct made of her a dreadful intruder; she
+saw herself in the shameful act. Instinctively Evangeline knew she was
+on sacred ground.
+
+"I couldn't stop, I was goin' so fast. It's too late not to see him
+doin' it; I don't know what to do."
+
+With swift, light steps Miss Theodosia was down beside her. John
+Bradford with one step was there. Evangeline looked shamefacedly up into
+their two kind faces.
+
+"I'm sorry," she whispered. For answer, John Bradford took one of Miss
+Theodosia's hands and laid it on hers. He held out one of his own.
+
+"May I have this lady to be my wedded wife, Evangeline? Will you give
+her to me?" His big voice was very tender. Evangeline looked into his
+shining eyes. The mystery of love swept through her small, sweet soul.
+She shut her eyes as if from some light too bright for them. If she were
+alone, she would say her prayers. But the tender voice was going on.
+
+"May I have her, Evangeline--will you put her hand in mine? She is very
+dear, indeed, to me." She could feel Miss Theodosia's soft hand quiver
+against her own hard little palm. Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender,
+too.
+
+Then, suddenly, inspiration came to her. She laid the soft hand in the
+big hand and looked up, smiling into John Bradford's face.
+
+"I'm willin'," she said, "if you'll honor an' obey."
+
+It was as if a silken gown enfolded Evangeline's straight little
+shoulders and they heard her say: "I pronounce thee." The strange little
+ceremony left them hushed.
+
+No one spoke again for a little space. Somewhere sleepy birds twittered,
+disturbed by rustling leaves or stealthy marauders. Somewhere a clock
+intoned distantly. A train far away rushed through the night, perhaps to
+some Lonesome Land, but they were not on it. Then John Bradford broke
+the spell. He leaned down and kissed Evangeline.
+
+A little laugh bubbled up to him. "You must've made a mistake. I'm the
+wrong one--mercy gracious!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings, by
+Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 8865-8.txt or 8865-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+ http://www.gutenberg.org/8/8/6/8865/
+
+Produced by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+ www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+ the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+ you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
+ owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+ has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+ Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
+ must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+ prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+ returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+ sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+ address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+ the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+ you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+ does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+ License. You must require such a user to return or
+ destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+ and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+ Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+ money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+ electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+ of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+ distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+ Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+ Chief Executive and Director
+ gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+ www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/8865-8.zip b/8865-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dfb2c21
--- /dev/null
+++ b/8865-8.zip
Binary files differ
diff --git a/8865.txt b/8865.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3f6f702
--- /dev/null
+++ b/8865.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4256 @@
+Project Gutenberg's Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings, by Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+Posting Date: August 5, 2012 [EBook #8865]
+Release Date: September, 2005
+First Posted: August 16, 2003
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+BY
+
+ANNIE HAMILTON DONNELL
+
+WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
+
+WILLIAM VAN DRESSER
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of
+Stefana's patient endeavors. FRONTISPIECE.]
+
+
+
+To MY HUSBAND
+
+WHO COULD WRITE SO MUCH
+
+BETTER A BOOK AND
+
+DEDICATE IT TO
+
+ME!
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's patient
+endeavors.
+
+"We've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly"
+
+"If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into a story like
+that"
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the window
+
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"_Well!"_
+
+The last utterance was Miss Theodosia Baxter's. She was a woman of few
+words at all times where few sufficed. One sufficed now. The child on
+her front porch, with a still childlier child on the small area of her
+knees, was not a creature of few words, but now extreme surprise limited
+speech. She was stricken with brevity,--stricken is the word--to match
+Miss Theodosia's.
+
+Downward, upward, each gazed into the other's surprised face. The
+childlier child, jouncing pleasantly back and forth, viewed them both
+impartially.
+
+It was the child who regarded the situation, after a moment of mental
+adjustment, as humorous. She giggled softly.
+
+"Mercy gracious! How you surprised me' 'n' Elly Precious, an' me 'n'
+Elly Precious surprised you! I don't know which was the whichest! We
+came over to be shady just once more. We didn't s'pose you would come
+home till to-morrow, did we, Elly Precious?"
+
+"I came last night," Miss Theodosia replied with crispness. She stood in
+her doorway, apparently waiting for something which--apparently--was not
+to happen. The child and Elly Precious sat on in seeming calm.
+
+"Yes'm. Of course if you hadn't come, you wouldn't be standin' there
+lookin' at Elly Precious--isn't he a darlin' dear? Wouldn't you like to
+look at his toes?"
+
+It was Miss Theodosia Baxter's turn to say "Mercy gracious!" but she did
+not say it aloud. It was her turn, too, to see a bit of humor in the
+situation on her front porch.
+
+"Not--just now," she said rather hastily. She could not remember ever to
+have seen a baby's toes. "I've no doubt they are--are excellent toes."
+The word did not satisfy her, but the suitable adjective was not at
+hand.
+
+"Mercy gracious! That's a funny way to talk about toes! Elly Precious's
+are pink as anything--an' six--yes'm! I've made consid'able money out of
+his toes. Yes," with rising pride at the sight of Miss Theodosia's
+surprise, "'leven cents, so far. I only charged Lelia Fling a cent for
+two looks, because Lelia's baby's dead. I've got three cents out o' her;
+she says five of Elly Precious's remind her of her baby's toes. Isn't it
+funny you can't make boys pay to look at babies' toes, even when they's
+such a lot? Only just girls. Stefana says it's because girls are
+ungrown-up mothers. Mercy gracious! speakin' of Stefana an' mothers,
+reminds me--"
+
+The shrill little voice stopped with a suddenness that made the woman in
+the door fear for Elly Precious; it seemed that he must be jolted from
+his narrow perch.
+
+Miss Theodosia had wandered up and down the world for three years in be
+search of something to interest her, only to come home and find it here
+upon the upper step of her own front porch. She stepped from the doorway
+and sat down in one of the wicker rockers. She had plenty of time to be
+interested; there was really no haste for unpacking and settling back
+into her little country rut.
+
+"What about 'Stefana and mothers'?" she prodded gently. A cloud had
+settled on the child's vivid little face and threatened to overshade the
+childlier child, as well. "I suppose 'Stefana' is a Spanish person,
+isn't she?" The name had a definitely foreign sound.
+
+"Oh, no'm--just a United States. We're all United States. Mother named
+her; we've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly. Mother hated to
+call him Elihu, but there was Grandfather gettin' older an' older all
+the time, an' she dassen't wait till the next one. She put it off an'
+off with the other boys, Carruthers an' Gilpatrick--he's dead. She just
+couldn't name any of 'em Elihu, till Grandfather scared her, gettin' so
+old. She was afraid there wouldn't be time, an' there wasn't any to
+spare. Grandfather's dead now--she's thankful enough she didn't wait any
+longer. He was so pleased. He said he could depart this life easier,
+leavin' an Elihu Flagg behind him. An', anyway, Mother says Elly can
+call himself his middle name, if he'd ruther, when he's twenty-one--his
+middle name's Launcelot."
+
+Elihu Launcelot, at this juncture, toppled over against the little flat
+breast of his nurse, asleep--or in a swoon; Miss Theodosia had her
+fears. There seemed sufficient swooning cause.
+
+"Stefana," she prompted again, her interest advancing at a rapid pace,
+"and mothers--"
+
+"Stefana's our oldest. She's goin' to run us while Mother's away. She's
+got a job before her! All I can do is 'tend Elly Precious--we're all
+boys, but us. But, of course, runnin' the family isn't the real
+trouble--not what made Mother cry."
+
+Miss Theodosia sat forward in her chair.
+
+"What made Mother cry?" she asked. The child shifted her heavy burden
+the better to turn her head. She regarded the beautiful white lady
+gloomily.
+
+"You," she stated briefly.
+
+This time Miss Theodosia said it aloud and with a surprising ease, as if
+of long custom--"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean you're to blame; you can't help Aunt Sarah tumblin'
+down the cellar stairs an' Mother not bein' able to do you up."
+
+"Do me--up?"
+
+"Yes'm--white-wash you. Mother was sure you'd let her, an' we were goin'
+to send Carruthers to a deaf 'n' dumb school after you'd wore white
+clo'es enough. He isn't dumb, but he's deaf. He can't hear Elly Precious
+laugh--only yell. Mother heard that you always wore white dresses an'
+she most hugged herself--she hugged us. She said you'd prob'ly find out
+what a good white-washer she was an' let her white-wash you. But, now,
+Aunt Sarah's went an' fell down cellar."
+
+"Whitewash--whitewash?" queried Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Yes'm, you didn't think Mother was a washwoman, did you? Of course she
+could, but it doesn't pay's well. She only whitewashes--white clo'es,
+you know, dresses an' shirtwaists. She says it's her talent that the
+Lord's gave her, an' she's goin' to make it gain ten talents for
+Carruthers. But Aunt Sarah--"
+
+"Never mind Aunt Sarah. Unless--do you mean your mother has had to go
+away from home?"
+
+"Yes'm, to see to Aunt Sarah. They were twins when they were babies.
+Mother cried, because she said of course you'd have to be done up while
+she was gone, an' so she'd lost you. She said you'd been her bacon light
+ever since she heard you was comin' home an' wore so many white clo'es."
+
+The garrulous little voice might have run on indefinitely but for the
+abrupt appearance, here, of a slender girl in an all-enwrapping gingham
+apron. She came hurrying up Miss Theodosia's front walk.
+
+"Well, Evangeline Flagg, I hope you're blushing crimson scarlet
+red--helping yourself to folks's doorsteps that's got back from Europe!
+I hope--" but the newcomer got no further, for, quite suddenly, she
+found herself blushing crimson scarlet red, in the grip of a
+disconcerting thought.
+
+"I suppose it's just as bad to help yourself to doorsteps when folks
+aren't here as when they are," she said slowly, "but you mustn't blame
+Mother. She'd never've allowed Evangeline and Elly, if we'd had a single
+sol-i-ta-ry tree. Or been on the shady side. Or had a porch. Elly's been
+pindly, and Mother felt obliged to save his life. It's been terribly
+hot. Here, Evangeline Flagg, you give Elly here, an' you run home an'
+keep the soup-kettle from burning on. Don't you wait until it smells!
+I've got an errand to do here."
+
+The child, Evangeline, relinquished her burden and turned slowly away.
+But she halted at the foot of the steps.
+
+"This is Stefana," she introduced politely. "Stefana, you ain't _goin'
+to_? You look 'xactly as if you was. Mercy gracious!"
+
+[Illustration: "We've all got beautiful names except poor Elly."]
+
+"Yes," Stefana returned gravely, "I am. Now, you go. Remember the soup!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's interested gaze left the retreating little figure and
+came back to Stefana and Elly Precious. She was pleasantly aware of her
+own immaculate daintiness in her crisp white dress. Only Theodosia
+Baxter would have dreamed of arraying herself in white to unpack and
+settle. Her friends declared she made a fetich of her white raiment; it
+was a well-known fact among them that she was extremely "fussy" about
+its laundering.
+
+"One, two, three," counted the slender girl, over the baby's bald little
+head, "only three tucks, an' the lace not terribly full on the edges.
+I'm thankful there aren't any ruffles, but, there, I suppose there are
+on some o' the others, aren't there? I'll have to manage the ruffles. I
+mean, if--oh, I mean, won't you please let me do you up? Just till Aunt
+Sarah's bone knits--so to save you for Mother? I'll try so hard! If I
+don't, Charlotte Lovell will--she's the only other one. She's a
+beautiful washer and ironer, but none of her children are deaf, and she
+hasn't any, anyway. I didn't dare to come over and ask you, but I kept
+thinking of poor Mother and how she's been 'lotting on earning all that
+money. There, I've asked you--please don't answer till I've counted ten.
+When we were little, Mother always said for us to; it was safer. One,
+two, three--" she counted rapidly, then swung about facing Miss
+Theodosia. "You can say 'no,' now," she said, with a difficult little
+smile.
+
+Miss Theodosia had been, in a way, counting ten herself. She had had
+time to remember her very strict injunctions to those to whom she
+entrusted her beloved white gowns--to pull out the lace with careful
+fingers, not to iron it; to iron embroidered portions over many
+thicknesses of flannel, and never, never, never on the right side; to
+starch the dresses just enough and not too much. All these thoughts
+flashed through her mind while Stefana counted ten. But it was without
+accompaniment of injunctions that Miss Theodosia answered on that
+wistful little stroke of ten. In her soul she felt the futility of
+injunctions.
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Theodosia.
+
+Stefana whirled, at the risk of Elihu Launcelot.
+
+"Oh--oh, what? You mean I can do you up, honest? Starch you, and iron
+you, too--of course, I could wash you. Oh, if I could drop Elly Precious
+I'd get right up and dance!"
+
+"Give Elly Precious to me, and go ahead, my dear," said the White Lady
+with a smile.
+
+But Stefana shook her head. She was covertly studying the white dress
+once more. It was very white--she could detect no promising spots or
+creases, and she drew a sigh even in the midst of her rejoicing. If a
+person only sat on porches, in chairs, how often did white dresses need
+doing up? Miss Theodosia interpreted the sigh and look.
+
+"Oh, I've three of them rolled up in my trunk; aren't three enough to
+begin on? And shirtwaists--I'm sure I don't know how many of those. I'll
+go and get them now."
+
+In the hall she stopped at the mirror, jibing at the image confronting
+her. "You've done it this time, Theodosia Baxter! When you can't bear a
+wrinkle! But, there, don't look so scared--daughters inherit their
+mothers' talents, plenty of times. And you need only try it once, of
+course."
+
+After Stefana had gone away, doubly laden with clothes and bulky baby,
+Miss Theodosia remained on her porch. She found herself leaning over and
+parting her porch-vines, to get a glimpse of the little house next door.
+She had always loathed that little house with its barefaced poverties
+and uglinesses, and it had been a great relief to her to have it stand
+vacant in past years. She had left it vacant when she started upon her
+last globe-trotting. Now here it was teeming with life, and here she was
+aiding and abetting it! What new manner of Theodosia Baxter was this?
+
+"You'd better get up and globe-trot again, Woman, and not unpack," she
+uttered, with a lone woman's habit of talking to herself. "You were
+never made to live in a house like other people--to sit on porches and
+rock. And certainly, Theodosia Baxter, you were never made to live next
+to that little dry-goods box. It will turn you gray, poor thing." She
+felt a gentle pity for herself, then gentle wrath seized her. Why had
+she come home, anyway? Already she was lonely and restless. Why--could
+anybody tell her why--had she weakly yielded to two small girls? Her
+dear-beloved white dresses! And she could not go back on her
+promise--not on a Baxter promise! There was, indeed, the release of
+going away again, back to her globe-trotting--
+
+"I might write to Cornelia Dunlap," Miss Theodosia thought. "Maybe she
+is sorry she came home, too."
+
+Cornelia Dunlap had been her recent comrade of the road. They had
+traveled to many far places together. What would Cornelia say to that
+little conference of three--and a baby--on the front porch?
+
+"My dear," wrote Miss Theodosia, "you will think I have been swapped in
+my cradle since I left you! 'That is no fellow tramp of mine,' you will
+say, 'That woman being victimized by children in knee-high dresses!
+Theodosia Baxter nothing!'"--for Cornelia Dunlap in moments of surprise
+resorted sometimes to slang, which she claimed was a sturdy vehicle of
+speech. "You will set down your teacup hard," wrote on Miss
+Theodosia,--"I know you are drinking tea!--when I tell you the little
+story of the Whitewashing of Theodosia Baxter. But shall I tell it? Why
+expose Theodosia Baxter's weaknesses when hitherto she has posed as
+strong? Soberly, Cornelia, I am as much surprised at myself as you will
+be (oh, I shall tell it!). Do you remember your Mother Goose? The little
+astonished old lady who took a nap beside the road and woke to find her
+petticoats cut off at her knees? 'Oh, lawk-a-daisy me, can this be I!'
+cried she. I'm not sure those were just her words, but they will do. Oh,
+lawk-a-daisy me, can this be Theodosia Baxter! The Astonished Little Old
+Lady, if I remember my Mother Goose, resorted to the simple expedient of
+going home and letting her little dog decide if she were she. But I have
+no little dog.
+
+"They were so earnest to whitewash me, Cornelia! The whole scheme was
+such a plucky little one and Baxters, from the dawn of creation, have
+admired pluck. The lively, chatterbox-one was 'Evangeline' and the quiet
+one who should have been an Evangeline was what the other one ought to
+have been,--a 'Stefana,' suggestive of flashing, dark eyes under a lace
+mantilla, with ways to match the eyes. So does fate play her little
+jokes. The baby--but what do I know of babies or you know of babies? He
+had six toes and I might have seen them for nothing; so do we miss our
+opportunities. He was named for his grandfather just in time, but the
+name, my dear, the name! Elihu. Are you listening? _Elihu_! But they
+offered him the assuaging 'sop' of 'Launcelot' for a middle name, and
+what could a baby do? Babies are the little scapegoats of mistaken
+loyalties."
+
+Miss Theodosia was having a good time. Her sober mood had passed. She
+wrote on enjoyingly, describing the whole little episode to Cornelia
+Dunlap. The freshening of it in her memory was pleasant. Again she felt
+the tug of those eager little pleadings. She kept remembering other
+things about little Elihu Launcelot besides his name and his toes. She
+remembered how gravely he had looked at her, how tiny and soft his hands
+were.
+
+"That little box of a house next to mine, Cornelia,--I told you about
+it. Well, it's as full now as it has been empty, and a little fuller.
+Dear knows how many it holds! But it's sociable seeing the smoke come
+out of the chimney; _it's friendly_."
+
+She had not thought of it as sociable and friendly before. The thought
+seemed just to have come to her. She was quite cheerful-minded when she
+finished her letter to Cornelia Dunlap and neatly folded it. If she had
+but known, she was sorry for Cornelia who was not next door to a
+friendly little box.
+
+She made tea and sipped it, made golden toast and opened a
+foreign-looking box of some sort of jelly. While she ate slowly, she
+slowly made plans. No, she would not have a stay-all-the-time maid--yes,
+she would move her things into the room facing the next-door house.
+Until she got tired of watching the sociable thread of smoke, anyway.
+
+It had not occurred yet to Theodosia Baxter that she had not said a word
+to Cornelia Dunlap about going on their travels again. When it did
+occur, she suddenly laughed out aloud, but softly.
+
+"I forgot what I began that letter _for_! I never mentioned going away
+again! And now--I'm glad. Who wants to go off? 'East, west, hame's
+best.' Even a hame next door to a little dry-goods box."
+
+Of course there was the promise to let those funny kiddies whitewash
+her--
+
+"It's a Baxter promise; don't try to get out of it, Theodosia Baxter,"
+she said.
+
+The next noon she saw her dresses dangling from the neighboring
+clothesline. They were not successfully dangled; Miss Theodosia liked to
+see them hung with symmetry, all alike in a seemly row. The shirtwaists
+dangled also in unseemly attitudes. One hung by a single sleeve. But
+that was not all--a certain faint suggestion of something worse than
+lack of symmetry persisted in Miss Theodosia's mind. They had been
+especially travel-stained, soiled; they had still an air of soil and
+travel-stain. They didn't look clean!
+
+Miss Theodosia groaned. "It may be blueing streaks," she said, but there
+was little comfort in blueing streaks. She got her opera glasses and
+peered through them at her beloved dresses. Brought up at close range,
+they were certainly blue-streaked, and there was plain lack of the snowy
+whiteness her stern washing-creed demanded.
+
+At intervals, small figures issued from the house and circled about the
+clotheslines, inspecting their contents critically. Miss Theodosia saw
+one of them--it was the child of her doorstep--lay questionable hold (it
+must be questionable!) upon a delicate garment and examine a portion of
+it excitedly. She saw the child dart back to the house and again issue
+forth, dragging the slender young washerwoman. Together they examined.
+Miss Theodosia caught up her glasses and brought the little pair into
+the near field of her vision; she saw both anxious young faces. The face
+of Stefana was strained and careworn.
+
+Miss Theodosia was thirty-six years old, and all of the years had been
+comfortable, carefree ones. In the natural order of her pleasantly
+migratory, luxurious life, she had rarely come into close contact with
+careworn or strained faces; this contact through the small, clear lenses
+seemed startlingly close. Stefana's lean and anxious face, the child's
+baby-bent little back, like the back of an old woman--it was at these
+Miss Theodosia looked through her pearl glasses. She forgot to look at
+the garment the children examined so troubledly. Suddenly, Miss
+Theodosia Baxter--traveler, fortune-favored one--found herself as
+anxious for the success of Stefana's stout little project as the two
+young people within her field of view, but, suddenly and unaccountably,
+from a new motive. The slim, worn-looking little creature,--and that
+tinier, tired little creature--must not fail! The stout project should
+succeed!
+
+Stefana carried the disputed garment back into the house and rewashed
+it; it was dripping wet when she again dangled it beside the others.
+Several times during the afternoon this process was repeated, until, at
+nightfall, the entire wash dripped, rewashed and soggy. Miss Theodosia
+nodded her head approvingly; she had her reasons for being glad that the
+wash was to remain out overnight.
+
+It was a starless, moonless night--a night to prowl successfully about
+clotheslines.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled. The little dry-goods box full of children was a
+small, vague blur, a little darker than the darkness. The children slept
+the profound sleep of childhood and childhood's unbelonging toil. Sleep
+was smoothing Stefana's roughened little nerves with gentle hand and
+fortifying her courage for yet more strenuous toils to come.
+Evangeline's weary little arm--and tongue--were resting.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled softly, to avoid disturbing the little box-house.
+She had the guilty conscience of the prowler that sent her heart into
+her mouth at the crackling of a twig under her feet. She found herself
+listening, holding her breath in a small panic. No sound of wakened
+sleepers, but there must be no more twigs.
+
+"I must add a postscript to Cornelia Dunlap's letter," she thought.
+"This would make a thrilling wind-up! Cornelia would say, 'Lawk-a-daisy
+me, it _can't_ be Theodosia Baxter!' She wouldn't need any little dog."
+
+Safe in her own house once more, Miss Theodosia breathed a sigh of
+relief. Saved! But there was another trip yet to be made to that region
+behind the vague little blur of a box. It was too soon to be relieved.
+
+"What I've done once I can do twice," boasted Miss Theodosia, undaunted,
+though at the approach of her second prowling expedition, her courage
+waned unexpectedly. "I mean if I have a cup of tea--strong," she weakly
+appended to her boast. It would take her longer out there the second
+time. She really needed tea.
+
+Miss Theodosia retired at eleven, tired but contented. She even smiled
+at her sodden fingers--when had Miss Theodosia Baxter's fingers been
+sodden before!
+
+The next morning, the child and the childlier child appeared at her
+porch, where she rocked contentedly.
+
+"She's ironin' 'em!--Stefana's ironin' 'em! No, I can't sit down; she
+said not to. She's ironed one dress three times. It's funny how irons
+stick, isn't it? No, not funny--mercy gracious! You oughter see
+Stefana's cheeks, an' she's burnt both thumbs--I'm keepin' Elly Precious
+out o' the way, an' she's forbid Carruthers comin' in a step. She'll get
+'em ironed, Stefana will. You can't discourage Stefana! Last night I
+kind of thought you could, but the clo'es whitened out beautiful in the
+night. Stefana said it was the night air. There wasn't a single streak
+left this mornin'. We're goin' to keep your money in Mother's weddin'
+sugar-bowl, an' when she comes back, we're goin' to ask her if she don't
+want some sugar!"
+
+All day Stefana toiled and retoiled. It was night when she sent one of
+the children to Miss Theodosia with her day's work. The one who came was
+Carruthers, chatty and deaf. Miss Theodosia did not have to do any
+talking.
+
+"Stefana says there's some smooches, but the worst ones come under your
+arms an' where they's puckers. The wrinkles Stefana hopes you'll
+excuse--they'll air 'out, she expects. She was comin' over an' explain,
+herself, but she's gone to bed. Evangeline's gone, too, to keep the baby
+quiet. Stefana says you needn't pay as much's you expected to, 'count o'
+the smooches an' wrink--"
+
+"I always pay the same price for my dresses," Miss Theodosia said,
+forgetful of the boy's affliction. She put the money into the hard
+little palm of Carruthers and watched him scamper home with it. Miss
+Theodosia looked happy. She felt pleasant little tweaks at her
+heartstrings as if small grimy hands were ringing them, playing a tender
+little tune. Scorched, blundering young hands--Stefana's. The little
+tune rang plaintive in her ears. She had a vision of Stefana toiling
+over the ironing of her dresses and going to bed exhausted, when the
+toil was over. Miss Theodosia's eyes followed Carruther's retreating
+little figure till it reached the House of Little Children and
+disappeared from view. What had she, Theodosia Baxter, to do with houses
+of little children? Since when had they possessed attractions for
+her--held her tender, brooding gaze? What was she doing here now,
+gazing? Theodosia Baxter!
+
+Stefana had folded the dresses painstakingly in separate newspaper
+bundles and stacked them on Carruther's outstretched arms. They were
+stacked now on Miss Theodosia's porch. She picked them up and turned
+with them into the house.
+
+"I'll unfold them," she thought, "and shake them out. I must tell her to
+send them home without folding next time--or I can go and get them
+myself."
+
+Unpinning Stefana's many pins, she lifted out one of the dresses. It
+creaked starchily under her hands; it opened out before Miss Theodosia's
+horrified vision. She uttered a groan.
+
+Where, now, was that tender little heart-string tune?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Miss Theodosia saw pink. Near-anger surged up within her at this
+ruinous, this piteous result of Stefana's toil. The result dangled
+creaksomely from her hands, revealing new wrinkles and smooches and
+leprous patches of starch at every motion. What was in this bundle would
+be in the rest--there was no hope.
+
+In Theodosia Baxter's little girlhood, she had played there were two
+"'Dosies," a good one and a bad one. The Good 'Dosie was often away from
+home, but was sometimes apt to appear at unexpected moments, to the
+embarrassment of the Bad 'Dosie. Stamp her foot as she would, Bad 'Dosie
+could not always drive the unwelcome intruder away.
+
+"I don't like her!" the small sinner had once been heard to say.
+"She--she p'eaches at me!"
+
+The Good 'Dosie was preaching now.
+
+"Wait! Count ten!" she preached. "Don't get any angrier, or you'll see
+red instead of pink. Think of that poor child's burned thumbs--think of
+her having to take to her bed when she got through--"
+
+"I don't wonder!" snapped Bad 'Dosie.
+
+"Wait--wait! Aren't you going to be good? Do you remember what you used
+to do, to help out? Well?"
+
+Miss Theodosia dropped the starchy mass on top of the other newspaper
+bundles and rather suddenly sat down in a chair. She saw a little child,
+preached to and penitent, on her knees, with folded hands, saying "Now I
+lame me down to sleep."
+
+It was very still in the room. Miss Theodosia's eyes closed and opened
+again. It was as if she had said "Now I lame me." A little smile tugged
+at the corners of her mouth. She no longer saw even pink.
+
+She got up briskly and began turning back her cuffs. First, she would
+build the kitchen fire; it must roar and snap, with all the work it had
+to do to-night. She would heat a lot of water, for only boiling water
+could take out Stefana's awful starch. While the water was heating, she
+would eat her supper.
+
+"A good, big supper, it will have to be," smiled this gentled Miss
+Theodosia. "I've got to get up my strength! No tea-and-toast-and-jam
+supper to-night." She heated her gridiron smoking hot and broiled a bit
+of steak. She tossed together little feathery biscuit and made coffee,
+fragrant and strong. Momently, Miss Theodosia's strength "got up." She
+moved about the kitchen briskly--when had she launched out upon a
+night's work like this? Adventure!--call it adventure.
+
+Work to Miss Theodosia had always meant something that other people
+did,--the Stefanas and their mothers and brothers and fathers. What she
+herself did, a gentle, dilatory playing at work, hardly merited the
+name. A bit of dusting, tea-and-toasting, making her own bed, cooking
+for sheer love of cooking, what did they count in Miss Theodosia's
+summing up of tasks?
+
+Always there had been some one to do her heavy things. She had put her
+washings out and taken her dinners in; three times a week she was swept
+and scrubbed and made immaculate.
+
+But to-night--to-night was different. This was to be no playing at work.
+Miss Theodosia rose to the occasion gallantly--indeed, exultantly.
+Thrills of enthusiasm ran up, ran down her spine. She prepared for a
+night of it.
+
+The dresses immersed in steaming hot water and her supper eaten, she
+stretched drying-lines, with considerable difficulty, from corner to
+corner of her kitchen, prepared an ironing-board, and got out long-idle
+irons. At eight o'clock she stopped for breath. Stefana's starch still
+resisted all inducements to part with Miss Theodosia's dresses; more hot
+water was required. After another steamy bath, they were cooled and
+wrung and draped over the crisscross clotheslines in the hot kitchen.
+Then Miss Theodosia temporarily retired from the field of battle.
+
+Theodosia Baxter had come back from her travelings to this small
+ancestral town with a mildly disturbing taste in her mouth. "Settling
+down" at thirty-six was not at all to her mind; she would not settle
+down!
+
+"If I catch you doing it, Theodosia Baxter!" she said. "If I catch you
+growing old! The minute you feel it coming on, you pack up and start for
+Rome! Or Paris! Or Turkistan! Start for Anywhere! Keep going!"
+
+But, already, did she feel it coming on even before all her trunks were
+unpacked? She was a little frightened at certain signs. Now, when she
+sat down heavily--why did she sit down heavily? If some one had called
+upon her for scores of little services, so that she must hop up again,
+immediately--little piping voices: "Mother, where's my cap?" "Mother,
+make Johnnie stop plaguing me!" "Mother, come quick!" If a big John had
+come home to her, demanding her time or sympathy or service--
+
+"No little Johns--no big one!" She sighed. "Is that the matter with you,
+Theodosia Baxter? Well, for Heaven's sake, don't tell anybody! Keep a
+bold front."
+
+She dozed a little in her rocker while she waited. Her plaintive
+reveries took the shape of a sober little dream wherein one Theodosia
+Baxter tottered on a cane and another walked briskly and youngly among
+Johns. Both Theodosias were thirty-six.
+
+"Mercy!" she exclaimed, waking up. "Where's my cane? I must go and iron
+Stefana's dresses!" She felt oddly refreshed. Queer dream to refresh
+one! She found herself thinking kindly of Stefana.
+
+"I hope she's sound asleep, and a pitying little girl angel with a
+nurse's cap under her halo will slip down and cure her thumbs before she
+wakes up."
+
+The irons she had set to heating were much too hot. Should she run
+out-of-doors while one of them cooled, and lie in wait to catch the
+little nurse-angel on the wing or perhaps darting thrillingly down to
+Stefana on a shooting star, breaking all speed limits! This was a night
+for adventure. The wild ride of a becapped and haloed little celestial
+in goggles would be an adventure! Miss Theodosia laughed out girlishly,
+not at all a tottery laugh on a cane, and the pleasant sound broke the
+midnight stillness.
+
+The dresses were dry enough to roll into tight bundles. One she essayed
+to iron as it was. She began as soon as the iron was cool enough.
+
+Miss Theodosia toiled--adventured--through the long hours into the
+short. It was unaccustomed toiling, and, like Stefana, she burned her
+thumbs. She had judgment and the skill that age kindly lends, in her
+favor, and slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's
+patient endeavors and brought beauteous perfection out of apparent ruin.
+But the process was wearying and long. It would have been but half the
+labor to have begun at the beginning instead of at Stefana's poor little
+end.
+
+At midnight, Miss Theodosia made herself cups of tea and sipped them
+thirstily. A wrist, both thumbs, and her testing forefinger smarted; she
+was tired and disheveled. But the spirit of adventure refused to die.
+
+The fire burned red-hot and the irons must cool again. Miss Theodosia
+slipped out this time into the soft darkness.
+
+"Let us hope Aunt Sarah will 'knit fast,'" she was thinking, with
+whimsical eyes. "But if she doesn't--Theodosia Baxter, dear, if Aunt
+Sarah is a slow knitter, you are in for it! I've no idea of letting you
+off. Baxters that begin, end."
+
+It was dim starshine out-of-doors. Miss Theodosia was too late to see
+the nurse-angel riding on her star, her little cap and halo awry with
+the downhill glide through space. She was too late to see her go into
+the dark little House of Children--but she saw her come out. Distinctly,
+a misty little blur of white against the velvet background. Miss
+Theodosia started a very little--did she need pinching to wake her?
+
+For the space of a clock-tick the little celestial appeared to hesitate,
+as though waiting for her star-steed to come within her hail. Then,
+floatingly, not walking, it seemed to Miss Theodosia, the mist of blurry
+white drew nearer. It came near to Miss Theodosia, and it was not the
+nurse-angel in cap and shining halo. It was Stefana!
+
+The child was in her nightgown. One look into her wide, unseeing eyes
+was enough; Stefana was asleep. In a chattering little voice she was
+talking to herself. It was like a soft wail of sound.
+
+"I must get them back! Quick, before she sees; I must iron them over.
+Perhaps if I starched them again--another coat of starch might hide the
+smooches. She mustn't see the smooches! If Mother should lose the
+chance--oh, I must get 'em back and starch 'em another coat! Mother
+mustn't lose her! My thumbs ache so!"
+
+Was she coming straight toward the door? No, a fortunate whiff of breeze
+seemed to blow her aside like a little seed-puff, and she went drifting
+by. She was apparently searching anxiously.
+
+"I must find them! Quick, before she sees! Oh, there are the smooches. I
+see some of the smooches! But I can't find the rest of them--"
+
+Miss Theodosia sprang forward in the direction of the pathetic little
+figure, but almost as quickly caught herself up. Sleepwalkers were not
+to be awakened suddenly. What then was to be done?
+
+"I must get her back to bed without letting her wake," thought Miss
+Theodosia. A plan suggested itself. She caught of her large apron,
+rolled it into a bulky mass, and swiftly followed the small nightgowned
+figure. Her steps made no sound over the grass. It was but the work of
+an instant to lay the roll of apron in Stefana's arms. Instantly, at the
+feel of starched cloth in her hands, the tense little face relaxed.
+
+"I've got 'em back!" Stefana muttered, and, as if from the relief of it,
+the troubled sleep seemed to calm and quiet down into deep oblivion to
+all troubles. To Miss Theodosia's dismay Stefana slid quietly to the
+ground and dreamlessly slept. Here, indeed, was adventure! Even at
+twelve years and Stefana small, the child was too heavy to carry home.
+
+"I don't dare to wake her," Miss Theodosia cried aloud, but softly, as
+if in fear of doing so.
+
+"You needn't--hush! I'll carry her for you."
+
+The voice seemed to materialize out of the gloom into something big and
+high and unexpectedly close at hand that rightly should have startled
+Miss Theodosia but failed to do so. Afterward, in the house again, among
+her irons, she was startled.
+
+"I was going by and saw her--you can tell a sleepwalker by the way one
+walks. Glides. Now, when I lift her, gently support her head--that's it.
+Forward, march!"
+
+"This way," Miss Theodosia directed in a whisper, though he was already
+moving this way. Shadow Man that he was, he stepped earthily, with thuds
+of his feet on the grass. Miss Theodosia's footsteps were soft echoes.
+So they came to the little House of Flaggs.
+
+"There's a light in that inside room, and I can see a bed. I'll lay her
+down, and you can go in afterward--and--er--smooth her out."
+
+"Yes--yes, I'll wait out here," whispered Miss Theodosia with a curious
+solemnity in her face. Rome, nor Paris, nor Anywhere had offered
+adventure like this--not like this. Miss Theodosia had an odd feeling
+that this, too, was a dream--and a John. Would they all wake up
+together?
+
+"Sound as a nut--never knew what hit her! But she wants straightening.
+New work for me; I'm not used to putting kiddies to bed."
+
+"Oh, I'm not either!" breathed Miss Theodosia, "but I might straighten
+one. I don't suppose you--you kissed her thumbs? Of course not!" She
+laughed softly. "But I shall."
+
+Now it was the Shadow Man's turn to laugh with a funny, explosive little
+effect as though he were not used to muffling his laughs,--as if this
+playing Shadow Man were a new role.
+
+"Why thumbs?" he whispered. "Why not lips, say, or eyes? I thought women
+kissed kiddies' eyes. Hope I haven't made a mistake--" as if he had some
+secret desire for women to kiss the eyes of little children. "If you
+don't mind kissing 'em when you go in there--"
+
+"I shall kiss her thumbs," Miss Theodosia said firmly. "They were burned
+at the stake for me. I know how burned thumbs feel."
+
+But the Shadow Man stubbornly persisted.
+
+"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll go back now and kiss her thumbs, if
+you'll kiss her eyes when you go in; as--er--a favor. 'Stoop over the
+little sleeper,' you know, and 'press your mother's lips to the closed
+blue orbs.'" He seemed to be quoting something.
+
+"But I haven't any mother's lips," sighed Miss Theodosia, "only the kind
+for thumbs--just thumbs. I'm sorry," she added humbly. Curiously she
+experienced no surprise at this intimate turn of a conversation with a
+Shadow Man at midnight.
+
+"That's all right--that's all right," the Shadow Man assured her. "Only
+thought I'd feel a little better to prove it was done that way. Hadn't
+any business mixing up with women's lips and kiddies' orbs, anyway!
+Serves me right." And now it was his turn to be humble. "Good night,"
+and he was gone.
+
+It was into a tiny bedroom off the kitchen, where a needle of light from
+a turned-down lamp barely pricked the darkness, that Miss Theodosia
+found her way. She had a dim picture of littering little clothes about
+the room and on the flat pillows of the bed the round, flushed face of
+Evangeline. In a clothes basket beside the bed she dimly saw a little
+mound that might be Elly Precious--it was Elly Precious! The little
+mound stirred with a curious, nestling sound, and instantly Stefana
+stirred also and crooned. Even in her sleep she was the little Mother.
+Miss Theodosia felt her own throat tighten and fill.
+
+Stefana still clasped the bundle of apron in her arms, and Miss
+Theodosia did not dare try to take it away from her. She merely arranged
+it a little more comfortably and smoothed Stefana out. Queer!--as if at
+some other time, in some passed-by existence, she had smoothed out a
+child. She seemed to know how. Suddenly she stooped and kissed, not
+Stefana's thumbs but her eyes.
+
+"The starch!" murmured Stefana as Miss Theodosia turned away. "Some'dy
+get it!" The deep sleep had broken a little, and through the break
+trickled a thread of Stefana's troubles. Then, again, silence and peace.
+No sound from bed or clothes basket on the floor.
+
+Outside, in the faint starlight, Miss Theodosia drew a long breath. She
+softly laughed. Curious how much like a sob a little laugh can be! Oh,
+starlit night of adventuring! What next? Miss Theodosia's mantle of
+gentle melancholy slid from her shoulders; she no longer felt
+apprehensions of growing old. Continually she saw Evangeline's rosy face
+on that flat pillow, and the little mound of Elly Precious. She
+remembered how tiny the house had looked from the inside, and how many
+little littering clothes she had seen. The appealing quality of empty
+little clothes! In Miss Theodosia's inside room of her soul, something
+stirred behind the locked door.
+
+The irons had cooled too much, and the fire was low. Miss Theodosia went
+to work again. As she worked, she talked to herself sociably.
+
+"Adventures thicken! Stars, and angels in caps, and children that walk
+in their little sleeps! And little heaps in clothes baskets, that are
+babies! And--Theodosia Baxter--a Man! Out of a clear, inky sky! Why
+weren't you scared? How do you know--you never even saw his face--maybe
+he was a thief, and a marauder, and a thug!"
+
+Granted, if thieves and marauders and those awful things, thugs, carry
+little loads or sleep as tenderly as women--and never wake them; if they
+are polite and say good night--. What kind of marauding and--and
+thugging is that?
+
+"What will Stefana think when she finds my apron in bed with her!"
+suddenly laughed Miss Theodosia, breaking the spell. "Funny Stefana! she
+goes to my heart, she and her starch--when they're asleep!"
+
+But, awake, Stefana's starch went to Miss Theodosia's back and aching
+bones. It was three o'clock when she was ready to go to bed. Over chairs
+and the couch in her sitting-room, lay the three redeemed white dresses,
+soft again and very smoochless and smooth. Miss Theodosia stood and
+admired. She was full of pride and weariness. At last, at thirty-six,
+she had done real work; she loved the feel of it in her tired bones. She
+loved her night of adventuring. Life--she loved that. So she went to bed
+at three, when the birds were beginning to get up. If her throat--calm
+and grown-up throat--had not persistently tightened, she would have gone
+to sleep laughing at the remembrance of it all. All the funny night. Why
+wasn't it funny? Why couldn't she laugh? She sat up in bed.
+
+On the morning after her adventurous night, as Miss Theodosia lingered
+luxuriously over her late breakfast, came bursting in Evangeline Flagg.
+A gray-checked something waved from her hand like a flag of truce.
+Evangeline always burst into things--houses, and rooms, and excited
+little speech.
+
+"Here it is!--that is, if it's yours. Stefana says to ask. 'Tain't ours.
+Mercy gracious, no! We don't take our aperns to bed. Stefana never heard
+of such a thing. Neither o' us never. In bed--right straight in bed! An'
+Stefana hugging it up like everything! She says to ask you if it's yours
+because it ain't ours, nor anybody else's, an' it's got to be somebody's
+apern, and once I thought I saw a gray 'n' white one hanging through
+your window--I mean on a nail, but, mercy gracious, what was it doing in
+bed with me an' Stefana!"
+
+Even Evangeline's breath had limitations. She stopped as headlong as she
+had begun. She unwound the large, voluminous-skirted apron from her
+grasp and extended it.
+
+"Here 'tis, if it's yours," she gasped, spent. She was gazing at it with
+a species of awe; it was an "apern" of mystery, not a human apern. "An'
+if 't isn't, take it--Stefana said not to dare to bring it back.
+We--we're sort of afraid of it, honest. Though, of course, Stefana says
+it must 've blew in the window"--the tide of speech was coming in once
+more--"an'--an' sort of landed on the bed, an' Stefana kind of grabbed
+it in her sleep, thinking it was Elly Precious. But, mercy gracious!"
+
+"Sit down," Miss Theodosia said, smiling. "Doesn't it tire you to talk
+as fast as that?"
+
+"Some," admitted Evangeline, "but I don't mind. What I mind is
+ghosts--aperns an' the kind with--with legs." She dropped her voice. "I
+saw one las' night."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia breathed.
+
+Evangeline nodded solemnly. "Out the window. I woke up feelin' one, an'
+I saw it goin' across the grass. White. Slinky."
+
+"Oh, not--slinky!" protested Miss Theodosia, suddenly championing the
+ghost-with-legs.
+
+"Slinky," firmly. "I guess I'd a-screeched right out if I hadn't
+remembered the baby. Elly Precious is terrible hard to put to sleep
+second time. You aren't much acquainted with babies, are you?"
+
+Again--so soon! Miss Theodosia's humility returned.
+
+"We're acquainted, over to our house! Mother says babies are great
+edge--edge--"
+
+"Educators?"
+
+"That's it! Mercy gracious, then I should think Mother'd be graduated!"
+
+After Evangeline's departure, Miss Theodosia set down her coffee cup and
+gave herself up to laughter. The room rang with the pleasant sound of
+it.
+
+"Will you l-listen to yourself, Theodosia Baxter!" she cried at length,
+out of breath. "You actually sound happy!"
+
+In the afternoon, a bevy of Miss Theodosia's old friends called on her
+as she sat on her front porch. They had intended, they said, to wait
+till the proper time, according to etiquette, for calls upon returned
+travelers.
+
+"But we wanted to see you so much, after all this time," one of them
+said. "We decided we couldn't wait to be proper. Besides, it would be
+such a risk. While we waited, you'd run off again. It was really our
+only way. Ladies, will you see how lovely and white she looks! Perfectly
+spotless!" The speaker sighed. Her own dress was dark and spot-colored.
+"I don't see how you do it! I tell Andrew I'd rather dress in white than
+in velvet--I love it! But, there, I couldn't get a minute to wear the
+dresses; it would take all my days to do 'em up. Of course, with you
+it's different. I don't suppose you ever toiled over an ironing-board a
+day in your life."
+
+Miss Theodosia gravely shook her head. "No," she said, curious little
+twinkling lines deepening round her eyes, "I never did--a day--in my
+life."
+
+"That's what I thought! That's what I told Andrew. 'Theodosia Baxter
+don't know what work is,' I told him. It's easy enough for some women to
+wear lovely white things. Simplest thing in the world!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's cryptic little smile lingered on her lips and in the
+clear windows of her eyes, as she gazed past the voluble wife of Andrew,
+through her vines, at the little House of Children next door. She
+imagined she heard Stefana singing, high up and sweet, over her work.
+Wait!--that was not a singing sound!
+
+A single shriek shot above the clear humming noise that might be
+Stefana. Then another--a third!
+
+"Some one is hurt!" cried Miss Theodosia, and she kilted her smooth
+white skirts and ran.
+
+Again that dread shriek! Over her shoulder, as she ran, Miss Theodosia
+gave directions to her startled callers.
+
+"Telephone for a doctor--any doctor. In the side hall--on a table!" But
+could any doctor save the life of that terrible shriek? If it came once
+more--It came! Miss Theodosia involuntarily closed her eyes to shut out
+a sight of horror.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+She opened them hurriedly at the soft collision of herself with
+Evangeline.
+
+"Who is it? Is it the baby? I've sent for the doctor." Half-remembered,
+half-read first aids crowded her mind confusedly. Warm water and
+mustard--that was for hemorrhage--no, no--poison! But did you apply it
+inside or out? What was that about laying the patient up hill--feet
+higher--or was it feet lower--down hill?
+
+"Take me there, quick! We must do what we can till the doct--oh, the
+poor baby!"
+
+"Mercy gracious goodness! Elly Precious is eatin' bread an' molasses.
+He's only et one slice, an' most o' that's on his outside. They aint'
+an'thing worse'n molasses the matter with El--"
+
+"There! Oh, there!" As another mournful cry split the air.--"Oh, that!
+What is it? Who is it?"
+
+"Mercy gra--why, that's Carruthers bein' a steam whistle. Did he scare
+you? He does do it pretty loud when he's gettin' up steam; you see, he
+don't know how loud he does it, because he's deaf o' hearin'. We can't
+bear to lower him, but we only let him be a steam whistle for a
+treat--when he's 'specially good--Mother said to. Stefana found him
+washin' his face 'free greatest' this mornin', so she let him--.Quick,
+shut your ears! He's goin' off again!"
+
+'But, this time, Miss Theodosia heard, unalarmed. To her own surprise,
+she listened almost enjoyingly. To be able to make a noise like that!
+The sheer vitality and youth of it compelled admiration.
+
+"If I could do that--" began Miss Theodosia's thought, then broke off
+hastily as the mental vision of herself in the act of bein' a steam
+whistle appeared to her.
+
+"You do it this way," explained Evangeline, inserting a forefinger in
+each corner of her mouth and preparing to steam-whistle.
+
+"No, no, I don't do it any way!" Miss Theodosia protested smilingly. "Do
+you think--do you think, perhaps, he has been sufficiently rewarded for
+washing his own face, now? Because, you see, I have callers on my
+porch."
+
+"Mercy gracious--I see 'em! I'll go right an' stop Carruthers! That's
+what Stefana said--that we'd ought to remember you wasn't in Europe
+now."
+
+"I think I could hear steam whistles there!" Miss Theodosia smiled. But
+Evangeline's sober mind continued its line of thought.
+
+"Stefana says if you'll hang somethin' red out when you're asleep, or
+got callers, or anythin', then she'll make us play funeral."
+
+"Oh, no--not that!" No red flag of warning could justify playing
+funeral.
+
+"Well, Hold-Your-Breath, then. We can't make much noise holding our
+breaths! Stefana's the champion Hold-Your-Breath-er. You take an awful
+long breath--this way--" But, already, Miss Theodosia was on her way
+home. She found her callers moving agitatedly about. "Central asked what
+doctor, and for the life of me I couldn't remember a living doctor's
+name in this town. 'Anybody,' I told her. 'Tell him to come quick;
+somebody must be dying over to the little Flagg place."
+
+Miss Theodosia lifted a hand to stem the tide of Mrs. Andrew's words.
+
+"He's stopped dying--listen! It's all quiet now; it was only play. I'll
+head Central off. Excuse me a minute--I mean, another minute!"
+
+But Central had done her work well--beyond heading-off. Already an
+automobile was speeding up the road; behind it clattered a
+hurriedly-driven buggy. Miss Theodosia saw them both stopping at the
+little Flagg place. She smiled. She was not needed over there to make
+any explanations or apologies--Evangeline was there!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+She sat on her porch after the visitors had gone, thinking strange Miss
+Theodosia thoughts. A man, coming up her front path and lifting a soft
+felt hat, interrupted the strangest thought of all.
+
+"I beg your pardon. Is this where somebody needs help? I was told--"
+
+Miss Theodosia laughed outright.
+
+"I do need help. Were you ever a steam whistle? You put two fingers in
+your mouth, one in each corner--I was trying to get up my courage to do
+it!"
+
+The felt hat rolled down the steps, the stranger needing both his hands.
+
+"Like this?"
+
+"Ye-s. I never saw a steam whistle, you know. That was what I was
+wishing."
+
+"Heard one? Because I can give a demonstration."
+
+"Don't!" Miss Theodosia shut her ears.
+
+"I heard one--demonstration. I thought some one was dying, at least."
+
+"Oh, that was the 'help wanted!' I see. My services are not required,
+then; it was a false alarm."
+
+Miss Theodosia was on her feet, remembering her manners. "It was a true
+enough alarm; won't you sit down? I think my nerves need a doctor."
+
+"Did I call myself a doctor? I am a reformed doctor, madam. It is some
+years since I got out. But I thought, in a very urgent case--fits, you
+know, or something like that--Thank you, I won't sit down. My work calls
+me."
+
+Miss Theodosia inclined her head politely, but curiosity seized her. How
+curious she was getting about many things!
+
+"I wish I knew--" she began.
+
+"Yes, madam?"
+
+"What work 'calls' reformed doctors. After they are--out."
+
+The stranger's big, unharnessed laugh was almost startling to Miss
+Theodosia. Why? She had never heard just such a big, unharnessed laugh
+before. She had heard a big harnessed laugh--when? Before she could
+answer her own thought, or the stranger could answer her spoken query, a
+hurry of small feet sounded. Only Evangeline's feet could break speed
+limits like that.
+
+"Oh, Miss Theodosia--oh, I don't want to int'rupt, but just soon's he's
+gone--"
+
+"He's gone," sighed Miss Theodosia, as the child came up. "You mustn't
+interrupt again, that way, unless it's a very urgent case--fits or
+something." In spite of proper vexation, she smiled. "Who was that man,
+Evangeline, that just went away?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I wasn't acquainted with his back; that's every speck
+o' him I saw. Oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, what is the matter now?"
+
+"'D you ever do up a man, Miss Theodosia? Stiff--awful stiff? Stefana
+says it's bad enough to do women up. She's havin' a dreadful time! We
+can't get the stiffness out; I been helpin'. It stands up alone!"
+Suddenly, without warning, Evangeline went off into a series of shrill
+shrieks.
+
+"Stop me! Stop me! Don't l-let Stefana hear me! Don't l-let me laugh!"
+
+This was an urgent case--fits or something, surely! Miss Theodosia's
+eyes sought the horizon for a reformed doctor. In lack of one, she shook
+Evangeline.
+
+"Stop at once! Make yourself stop; count ten!"
+
+"One! Two-o! Th-ree!" shrieked Evangeline, through to ten. Ten separate
+shrieks. Then, abruptly, she ceased.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I've stopped! I hope Stefana wasn't listenin'. But she
+wasn't; she was cryin'. I left her cryin'. If you could come over--.
+Honest, we can't do a thing! We thought you'd probably did up men."
+
+Miss Theodosia never had. Not so--awful a thing as that!
+
+"It stands up alone, with both arms out! I don't dass to go back. I
+shall laugh if I do, an' if I laugh, Stefana'll cry. She don't think
+it's f-funny." The shrieks showed signs of returning, and Miss Theodosia
+again had recourse to stern measures.
+
+"Count ten!" she demanded, as she shook.
+
+They went back together to the mysterious something that stood alone
+with both arms out. It was in that pose as they approached it. Miss
+Theodosia thought it was f--funny; an awful desire to shriek like
+Evangeline took possession of her. She counted ten in inward haste.
+
+"I can't do anything with it!" wailed poor Stefana. "And Elly Precious
+gets into it, and makes it walk! He's in it now."
+
+"It's walkin'!" shrieked Evangeline, as the portentously stiff shirt
+staggered a little to one side. Stefana, filled with enthusiasm and
+generosity of soul, had starched not the bosom alone but the entire
+shirt. She had done it thoroughly. The result was alarming. It was a
+terrible shirt!
+
+"Tell me what to do--somebody tell me!" entreated the little laundress.
+"I've unstarched it, and unstarched it, and seems as if it got stiffer."
+
+"Boiling water," breathed Miss Theodosia, too spent with her struggles
+not to laugh, to admit of further speech.
+
+"Wait! Don't anybody dass to pour boilin' water on till I get Elly
+Precious out! Come to Evangeline this minute, darlin' dear--no, they
+shan't boil him!"
+
+Elly Precious emerged, crowing. The deaf-but-not-dumb little Flagg
+appeared, to swell the number around the Terrible Shirt. Stefana dried
+her tears. Miss Theodosia had the sense of being looked up to--relied
+upon. She rose to the occasion buoyantly. As unused as Stefana to men's
+bosoms, she yet stepped into the breach. Unused to issuing orders, she
+issued them.
+
+"Evangeline, you and Carruthers see to the baby. Stefana, come with me.
+Bring--it."
+
+They went back to the big house, she with that new and intoxicating
+sense of importance, and Stefana with the Terrible Shirt.
+
+"Whose is it--that?" she asked, indicating the creaking white garment.
+"What were you doing with it?"
+
+"Starching it," mumbled poor Stefana. "It took most a package. He said
+he liked his stiff. 'Put in plenty o' starch,' he said to Mother, and
+she always did. So I did. I thought if he said--"
+
+"If who said?" It took a long time to establish the identity of the
+Terrible Shirt.
+
+"If he did, the man it belongs to."
+
+"What man--who?"
+
+"The man that writes things."
+
+"What things?"
+
+"We don't know exactly. Evangeline thinks tracts. She says his room was
+all full o' half sheets o' paper--lying all over everywhere. She saw
+'Good Lord' on one. Perhaps it's sermons. Mother always sent Evangeline
+home with his wash; I never went. He is a very nice man--oh, that's why
+I feel so bad about his shirt! I wouldn't care if he was an--an
+infidel!"
+
+"Bless your heart!"
+
+Miss Theodosia turned suddenly and embraced Stefana and the shirt.
+"Don't worry any more," she said; "you and I will work wonders with that
+Tract Man's shirt! Stefana, put the kettle on and we'll go to it!
+There's nothing two determined people can't do, once they've put their
+minds on it."
+
+Together they labored, and the impossible happened. Theodosia Baxter did
+up a man! She--and Stefana--succeeded in getting the starch out of the
+surrounding area and into the bosom of the Terrible Shirt. They got much
+starch in. Inspiration appeared to come to Miss Theodosia. Even the
+really awful task of ironing that bosom till it glittered and shone in
+unwrinkled board-like expanse was at length accomplished. Miss Theodosia
+was justly proud of herself--and of Stefana; she insisted upon including
+Stefana in her triumphs.
+
+"Eureka!" she exulted. "Call Evangeline, Stefana, and Elly Precious, and
+Carruthers! Call in a Chinaman, if you like, and tell him to look at
+that! Ask him to beat it!"
+
+"There isn't any in this town," responded literal Stefana. "That's why
+Mother did bosoms. She'd a good deal rather not've."
+
+"But I love to do bosoms!" sang Miss Theodosia. "I never felt so worth
+while in my life before--an artist in starch, Stefana!"
+
+"Well, you've done beautifully--I never did see!" the grateful Stefana
+cried. "But I'm afraid it's kind of gone to your head. I think you
+better lie down."
+
+"Send for the Reformed Doctor! Stefana, what are you doing with my
+beautiful bosom?"
+
+"I won't muss it. I'm just going to take it home and sew the buttons on.
+There's two off. Mother always sewed 'em on; he pays two cents extra for
+repairs."
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair face flushed. "You don't stir a step with it! I
+have buttons and a spool of thread--what I do, I finish doing! Give it
+to me."
+
+For the first time, Miss Theodosia handled a man's garment intimately.
+It lay stiffly across her lap. She sewed on the two buttons; she mended
+a tiny "hog-tear." Life had taken on new interests--bosoms and buttons.
+She thrilled--when had she ever thrilled before? Ironing her own dresses
+had been a poor, tame business. She would be sorry to part with this
+shirt!
+
+And then Evangeline came.
+
+"Mercy gracious, doesn't it look elegant! I came over because he's come
+for his shirt. He says he's goin' to begin a new story, an' he always
+has to have a clean shirt on. An' his hair cut--he's got it cut. I guess
+that bosom'll match his hair all right! It's perfectly lovely!"
+
+"What did you do with Elly Precious, Evangeline Flagg!" demanded
+Stefana.
+
+"That's it--that's why I got to hurry back. He's keepin' Elly Precious
+for me, an' he don't know what to do with babies. He says all his are
+paper ones--paper babies! He gave Elly Precious his knife, an' opened
+the blades to amuse him! He said he guessed Elly Precious wouldn't hurt
+'em!" Evangeline's face registered great scorn. "If you'll give it to
+me, I'll carry it to him," she concluded, holding out her hand for the
+shirt. But Miss Theodosia sewed calmly on. She had found a second tear
+larger than the first. It would be better to strengthen it with a little
+piece underneath. She would find a white scrap in her bag of pieces.
+
+"It is not ready yet. He can wait. But you must not wait, Evangeline.
+Elly Precious may be playing with his pistol, if he carries one."
+
+"He don't. He ain't a pistol-man, but, mercy gracious, how you scare me!
+You comin' too, Stefana?"
+
+"Yes, Stefana can go now. She is all through," which was Miss
+Theodosia's kind inclusion of Stefana. That, again, was curiously new to
+Miss Theodosia. Psychological changes were taking place--or were they
+just plain tugs on Miss Theodosia's heartstrings?
+
+She sat and sewed.
+
+"Patching--I'm patching!" she laughed to herself. "And here I've been
+hiring my own mending done! Theodosia Baxter, see what you are doing;
+you are patching a shirt for a man! No, I'm not, either! I'm doing it
+for Stefana--what are you talking about?"
+
+Some one came up her steps and knocked on her open door. But she was too
+engrossed to hear. The patch underneath had slipped a little askew. She
+ripped out some of the stitches and began again. She caught herself
+humming as she worked.
+
+"Please may I have my shirt?" a voice asked meekly. "That story is
+promised for next month. It's the twenty-eighth, now."
+
+Evangeline's Tract Man stood in the doorway, soft felt hat in hand,
+twinkles in his eyes. Evangeline's Tract Man was the Reformed Doctor! If
+Miss Theodosia had been eighteen instead of thirty-six she would not
+have blushed more beautifully, but she continued to patch. She was
+caught in the act; no help for it now. But she would finish--that--patch.
+
+"So it's you! So that's the work Reformed Doctors do!"
+
+"Madam, yes. When stories appeal to them more than pills and tonics,
+they reform and write stories. They have to!" he cried, suddenly in
+earnest, "When one is life, and the other death--"
+
+"Oh, if it was death to them--your patients," she murmured. Then,
+ashamed of her own flippancy: "Of course, I didn't mean anything as
+silly as that! I meant--I meant, please sit down while I finish this
+patch. There, in that easy-chair. There are magazines on the table."
+
+There was one magazine with his own name in the list of contents. He
+opened it at that page and gazed down upon it quite soberly.
+
+"My name is John Bradford," he said, as if reading. Miss Theodosia
+started a little, but it was not as he thought, in his innocent vanity.
+Miss Theodosia got no farther than the first part of the name--so he was
+a John! She glanced quickly at the doorway, measuring him in her mind as
+he had stood against the lintel. He had reached a long way up--a long
+man. The Shadow Man had been a long shadow. Something told her--
+
+[Illustration: "If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into
+a story like that."]
+
+"Did you ever carry a child in your arms and lay her on a bed? In the
+middle of the night? Did you do it last night? Are you the same man?"
+
+"I am the same man I was last night," he answered gravely. "I was John
+Bradford then, too. Didn't I carry her all right? What was the matter?"
+Suddenly he leaned forward in the chair. "Did you kiss her thumbs?" he
+demanded.
+
+"I kissed her eyes."
+
+They were silent for a little, while Miss Theodosia set small, nervous
+stitches in John Bradford's shirt, and John Bradford twiddled the edges
+of the magazine. He stole glances, now and then, at this strange woman
+with whom he seemed to have come so oddly into contact. He could make a
+story of her dark hair, straight shoulders, beautiful hands. He could
+not get a good view of her full face. Bending over a bed, kissing a
+little sleeper's eyes--he could work her in that way. If he knew her a
+little better--
+
+"I knew they did it!"
+
+"Did what--who?"
+
+"Women--kissed that way. You have proved it now."
+
+"I'm not women. I'm just one woman, and I never did it in my life
+before."
+
+"Well, you liked doing it, didn't you? I could put you in, liking it."
+
+The shirt slid to the floor, and Miss Theodosia gave her visitor a full
+view of her face.
+
+"Are you making 'copy' of me? Because if you are thinking of putting me
+anywhere, put me into a story like that. I'd like it. I mean, with
+little children in a bed--and one in a clothes basket! Say I tucked them
+in--Yes, I liked kissing Stefana's eyes. I should love to have another
+chance. It's nothing to be ashamed of, is it, to like little children?"
+
+"I like 'em. I always have."
+
+"Well, I always haven't. Only very lately--it's queer. When I came home
+here and found all those children next door--mercy gracious!"
+
+They both laughed. Laughing together is a great acquaintancer. Miss
+Thedosia suddenly thought of something and laughed a little more.
+
+"My name is Theodosia Baxter," she said. They rose and shook hands
+gravely. They were decently introduced. The beautiful shiny bosom of the
+shirt lay between them like a white mirror and Miss Theodosia caught the
+man's glance on it.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of--doing up a shirt?" she demanded.
+
+"Not doing it up like that! That's a work of art!"
+
+"A work of heart--I did it for Stefana. I've got quite fond of it now,
+and shall hate to part with it. It's a friend."
+
+"A bosom friend," he parried. Again they laughed and grew more
+acquainted. Miss Theodosia made tea in her dainty Sevres cups. The
+faintest flecks of pink made her face youthful. Miss Theodosia was a
+good-looking woman always, but, animated, her face was really lovely.
+John Bradford was better used to paper women, like paper babies, but his
+taste recognized flesh-and-blood attractiveness. He had always been a
+lonely man--until now.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time," he sighed. "Is it anything to be ashamed
+of, to have a beautiful time?"
+
+"Or two cups of tea? Please! This is my company tea--warranted good to
+write stories on!"
+
+"Oh--stories. Are there such things? Did I ever write one? Have I got to
+write another?"
+
+"It's the twenty-eighth," Miss Theodosia reminded demurely. "But you
+will need another cup of tea. How long does it take?"
+
+"To drink another cup?"
+
+"To write another story. Tell me about it. Perhaps I could do it. You
+take a blotter and a pen and plenty of half-sheets of paper--'tracts,'
+Evangeline calls them! Then you write 'Good Lord!' That is what
+Evangeline says you wrote on a tract! She said maybe it was a sermon."
+
+"Oh--Evangeline! And speaking of angels--"
+
+"Mercy gracious! You're here--both o' you! An' somebody's gone an'
+spilled a drop of somethin' on that beautiful bosom!"
+
+"A tear-drop, Evangeline, because she wouldn't give it to me."
+
+"Tea drop!" sniffed Evangeline. "Guess I know! After all Stefana's work!
+Miss Theodosia, can Elly Precious eat your grass? He's out there now. He
+don't really eat it; he just kind of pretends. Mother says Elly Precious
+ought to be put out to pasture. We haven't got any grass to speak of,
+over to our house."
+
+"Don't speak of it! Of course he can eat mine, if you think it is
+edible. Ask the Reformed Doctor."
+
+"Him a doctor? Mercy gracious--honest? Then he knows if Elly Precious'd
+ought to eat grass--not really eat, you know."
+
+"Just graze a little--let him graze." The Reformed Doctor rose to his
+feet and held out his hand to Miss Theodosia. "I'll go out and see how
+he does it. It's lucky Evangeline came in, or I might not have known
+enough to go at all. I've had a beautiful time. I'll put you in with the
+bedful of kiddies."
+
+"And the clothes basket?"
+
+"And the clothes basket."
+
+"You haven't got your shirt--mercy gracious! I thought that's what you
+came after," reminded Evangeline.
+
+"Was it?" the Reformed Doctor said. "Give it to me, Evangeline."
+
+"Not naked! Without wrappin' up! I never did see!"
+
+"It's such a good-looking shirt--well, then, wrap it up, wrap it up.
+I've got a newspaper in my pocket. Put that round it, Evangeline." He
+turned again to his hostess. "It will be a good story if I put--the
+clothes basket--in it. They won't send it back. Good-by."
+
+He was off to inspect Elly Precious' grazing-ground. Evangeline, at the
+window where she had gone to make sure her darlin' dear was safe,
+presented to Miss Theodosia a square, bony little back that was
+curiously like that of a dwarfed old woman.
+
+The trail of innocent Elly Precious was over that stoopy little figure.
+Miss Theodosia looked with softened eyes. Then a smile grew in them,
+wrinkling their corners whimsically. She was noticing something else
+besides the little old-lady back. Evangeline's braids toed in! Tight and
+flaxen, they stood out in rounded curves, converging suddenly to the bit
+of faded ribbon that tied them together. There was something suspicious
+looking about that ribbon--"Stefana starched it!" smiled Miss
+Theodosia's thought.
+
+The small figure whirled face about.
+
+"There, _he_ can see to him awhile." Evangeline was always cheerfully
+oblivious to any confusion of ideas arising from her use of personal
+pronouns. "I'm tired. Children are a great care," said Evangeline. She
+seated herself in an easy chair and dangled thin legs.
+
+"If you drank tea--I'll make you a cup of cocoa, Evangeline."
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious, no! I'm not as tired as _cocoa_. Jus'
+sit-'n'-a'-chair tired. You know how it feels--no, you don't either.
+I forgot. I guess you are pretty lucky. No, I don't guess so _either_!"
+Evangeline suddenly straightened on the edge of the big chair and eyed
+Miss Theodosia sternly, as though that innocent soul had been the one
+guilty of disloyalty to darlin' dears.
+
+"Children are a great comfort," declaimed Evangeline with emphasis. She
+might have been the mother of six comforts. Tenderness crept into her
+eyes, and her freckles seemed to fade out, and even the small blunt nose
+of her take on middle-agedness and motherliness. '"Specially when you
+undress 'em. They're so darlin' an' soft! You ever undressed one--a
+reg'lar _baby_ one? Of course not one o' your own when you never _had_
+any, but I thought p'raps you might've undressed a grandbaby or
+somethin'--"
+
+Miss Theodosia shook a humbled head.
+
+"No," she murmured, "I never undressed even a grandbaby." And curiously
+she failed either to smile at the child's little notion or to wince at
+the advanced age it implied for her. She looked across the room from her
+big chair to Evangeline's with rather a wistful look. She was envying
+Evangeline.
+
+"I'm sorry," the child said gently, a little embarrassed by the
+unexpected solemnity of the moment. To relieve it, she had recourse to a
+sudden funny memory of her own undressings of Elly Precious. She broke
+hurriedly into laughter.
+
+"I have to have an extra pig for my baby!" she shrilled. "Takes six
+instead o' five! You know where it ends, 'This little pig said: "Quee!
+Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door sill"?' Mercy gracious, you
+don't know the little pigs, I s'pose--" More embarrassment. Even
+Evangeline was losing presence of mind.
+
+"Oh, yes!" Miss Theodosia brightened perceptibly. "I know the one that
+went to market and the one that stayed at home--all five of them I
+know."
+
+"But you don't know Elly Precious's extra little pig!" crowed the
+reassured Evangeline. "Just _us_ know that one. I made him up. When you
+have six toes,--I mean when Elly Precious has,--you have to have six
+pigs. After the one that can't get over the barn-door sill, I say: 'This
+little pig said--' wait, I'll say the last two together so you'll see
+they rhyme beautifully. Reg'lar poetry.
+
+"'This little pig said, "Quee! Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door
+sill.'"
+
+"'_This_ little pig said, "He! He! He! when you tickle, I can't keep
+still!'"
+
+"Elly Precious wiggles it when I tickle! We laugh like everything. I
+think it is pretty good poetry," added Evangeline modestly.
+
+"It is beautiful poetry. I never could have begun to make up such a
+lovely, ticklish little pig!"
+
+Evangeline leaned back again in the soft cushiony embrace of the great
+chair and actually achieved a moment of silence. The talkative clock on
+Miss Theodosia's mantel filled in the space. Then once more Evangeline:
+
+"But I shall never have any."
+
+"Any--pigs?" smilingly.
+
+"Children. Not any. I've decided I'll rest. They're such a care. But of
+course I can run in an' undress Stefana's an' Elly Precious's--mercy
+gracious, Elly Precious's!"
+
+It required too great a mental effort to visualize them. Elly Precious's
+children were _funny_! Evangeline giggled softly. "Then I'll be a
+gran'mother, won't I! I've always wanted to be a gran'mother an' say
+what I did when _I_ was a child an' how I always _minded_." A fresh
+giggle. "'_I_ never had to be _told to_ twice, my dears,' I'll say to
+Elly Precious's children! They'll all be my dears. I'll help bring 'em
+up. Isn't it queer," broke forth Evangeline suddenly, "how when you get
+to be old you never were bad when you were young? The badnesses have
+kind of--kind of faded out. I bet there _were_ badnesses!"
+
+And Miss Theodosia found herself nodding decisively. She, too, bet there
+were.
+
+A hilarious little crow suddenly sounded from without the window; it was
+accompanied by a deep man-sound of mirth. Miss Theodosia and Evangeline
+smiled across at each other indulgently.
+
+"Elly Precious is havin' a good time. That's his good-time noise. Oh, I
+think he's a nice person, don't you?"
+
+"Nice? I love him!" cried Miss Theodosia warmly. Her face that was still
+the face of a girl was tenderly flushed. "I love every inch of him,
+Evangeline."
+
+"Merry gra--that's a lot of lovin'! I guess you are ahead o' me!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, aren't you ashamed! When he is the dearest,
+cunningest--"
+
+"Not--not _cunnin'est_. But he's got beautiful whiskers. I mean if he
+didn't shave 'em off. When he came, he had 'em on. You can't love his
+whiskers when you never saw--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up a limp hand to stem this terrible tide of words.
+
+"Oh, stop! _wait_, Evangeline!" she begged. "Who are you talking about?"
+
+Why stop for grammatic rules at a time like this?
+
+"Why, he--_him_. I said I liked him, an' you said you lov--"
+
+"I have been talking about Elly Precious, naturally," Miss Theodosia
+returned stiffly. "You are very careless with your pronouns,
+Evangeline," she added with an effect of severity. Her cheeks that
+persisted still in being a girl's cheeks had grown a warm, becoming
+pink. In pink Miss Theodosia was lovely.
+
+"Don't you think you'd better relieve Elly Precious' caretaker by this
+time? He may not enjoy being left in charge quite so long."
+
+"Not enjoy! Come an' see him not enjoy!" sang Evangeline from the
+window. She was flattening her nose against the pane and bubbling with
+sympathetic glee. Miss Theodosia went over and stood beside her.
+
+Out there the two of them were frolicking together--two joyous children.
+It was the good old game of Peek-a-boo, but seemed a new, surprising
+game to Miss Theodosia. The big playmate on the grass spread a
+handkerchief over the little playmate's face, and with a shriek of joy
+the little playmate did the rest. Then the big child's turn--turn and
+turn about. Deep voice and thin, sweet tinkle of baby voice joined in a
+curiously harmonious chorus that rang through the window pane into the
+two pairs of listening ears.
+
+It was a new light in which to see--a new sound in which to hear John
+Bradford. Miss Theodosia had a guilty consciousness of being an
+eavesdropper, yet she kept on eavesdropping. At a particular climax in
+the little play, she laughed aloud softly. Evangeline wriggled with
+enjoyment. Her fingers drummed applause on the glass, and the big player
+glanced quickly up and saw the two lookers-on. He did not hesitate in
+the play, did not stop the next little gleeful peek. Miss Theodosia
+loved it in him for not stopping. They were not ashamed--Elly Precious
+and John Bradford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+In the next few days Miss Theodosia unpacked the rest of her trunks and
+put the things away neatly in permanent places. She sang as she did it.
+Life seemed a singing thing to Miss Theodosia who had been a lonely
+woman--until now. Now she could look out of her window and see the
+little House of Flaggs. Any minute Evangeline might burst in. The steam
+whistle might blow. The Shadow Reformed-Doctor Man might come for
+another cup of tea. Anything might happen.
+
+Something did happen, but it was not a singing thing. Evangeline did
+burst in. It was some days later than the Day of the Shirt. Miss
+Theodosia sat comfortably sipping her afternoon tea. Two dainty cups
+were before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious--mercy, mercy, mercy gracious! This is the worst! This
+is worse than Aunt Sarah! An' to think it's Elly Precious, my darlin'
+dear! An' to think I never had--! An' to think I did it myself!"
+
+Even to Evangeline, words failed to express this worst of all things.
+She dropped, a little leaden thing of despair, into Miss Theodosia's
+great chair and rocked herself in anguish.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Miss Theodosia cried anxiously. The little word of
+endearment slipped out unconsciously, though she was not used to
+"dears." But she was not used to this, either--this rocking in anguish
+of a little child in her great chair.
+
+"Can't you stop crying and tell me?" Evangeline not able to talk! Miss
+Theodosia was actually alarmed. If speech did not return quickly--but
+speech returned.
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious me!" Evangeline sobbed, rocking harder, "to think I
+went an' set him right down in the middle of 'em--right slap in the
+middle! An' he didn't want to be set down. Elly Precious despises the
+Benjamin baby. He knows he's a girl, an' girl-babies don't count. But I
+set him down--oh, mercy gracious me, I went an' set him down, slap!"
+
+Sobs and words collided and inextricably mixed. In the dark Miss
+Theodosia waited; she saw no light as yet.
+
+"If I could only have 'em--if I only had've, anyway! Then I could take
+care of my darlin' dear. But Elly Precious's is the only measles we ever
+had in the family."
+
+Ah, light! Miss Theodosia blinked in the sudden inflow of it.
+Evangeline's released tongue leaped ahead.
+
+"How'd I know the Benjamin baby had 'em when she only just sneezed? Oh,
+I suppose she sneezed 'em all around, an' I set Elly Precious down in
+'em! Right in a nest o' measles!"
+
+"What was Elly Precious doing there? I don't remember any Benjamins."
+
+"No'm--oh, no'm. They're very recent. It's that house with the baby-pen
+in the front yard to keep their baby in. I set Elly Precious down in it,
+too, one day."
+
+Evangeline shuddered. "While I was gettin' Stefana's starch at the
+store; I asked if I could, till I got back."
+
+Miss Theodosia's face put on sternness. "What was the mother of the
+Benjamin baby thinking of, to let you?" she demanded.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I don't know! That's a very speckled baby, anyway,
+an' perhaps she didn't know measles from speckles. He didn't bloom out
+reg'lar built till next day--I mean she didn't--oh, I don't mean the
+mother didn't--"
+
+"I know, dear; I know what you mean," soothed Miss Theodosia gently.
+
+"Yes'm, that's what I mean. Next day they found out for sure."
+
+"But have you found out 'for sure'? How do you know Elly Precious has
+the measles? Has he--bloomed out? Perhaps his are speck--"
+
+"Elly Precious!" rose Evangeline's voice of indignation. "He's the
+unspeckledest baby you ever saw! I guess--I guess you never saw Elly
+Precious!"
+
+Stefana appeared suddenly in the doorway,--a blanched and frightened
+Stefana. But she was determinedly calm.
+
+"He's fell asleep, and Carruthers is watching him through the door. I
+told him not to go any nearer'n that. I came over to ask if I'd better
+send word to Mother. He said to ask you."
+
+"Carruthers?" Miss Theodosia was a little bewildered.
+
+"The Tract Man. He's the one that--that discovered Elly Precious's
+measles when we found he was broken out--I mean Elly Precious broken
+out--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know. He is a doctor--I mean--" Miss Theodosia caught
+herself up firmly. One at least must steer a clear course.
+
+"He was goin' past," Evangeline put in, "an' I asked him, if he uster be
+a doctor, wouldn't he please to be one now an' 'xamine Elly Precious's
+spots."
+
+"Measles," Stefana said briefly and hopelessly. "Shall we send for
+Mother, or what'll we do? Aunt Sarah isn't knitting."
+
+"Aunt Sarah--" began poor Miss Theodosia. Would she ever get used to
+little Flaggs? Evangeline broke in gloomily with explanation.
+
+"No'm, not knittin', Mother wrote Stefana. Kind of--of unravelin'
+instead. An' Mother's caught it."
+
+Miss Theodosia turned appealing eyes to Stefana.
+
+"Her knee's bad, too. Maybe it's just rheumatism, but she borrows Aunt
+Sarah's crutches when they're empty. I don't see how she'd get home--"
+
+"Don't send for her!" Miss Theodosia directed. Some inner voice seemed
+to say it through her lips. The same dictate from within prompted the
+rest.
+
+"Bring the baby over here. Bring all his nightgowns. I'll take care of
+him. It won't do for all you children to come down. Does the
+Reform--does the doctor think you can have caught them already? I don't
+believe it! Not till the disease is further advanced."
+
+"That's what he said--not till." Stefana hurried in eagerly. "_He_
+didn't believe it."
+
+"The Benjamin baby wasn't further advanced," doubted Evangeline
+discouragingly.
+
+"Never you mind the Benjamin baby! You bring your baby over here at once
+with his nightgowns! I believe we're in time. I'll be reading up my
+medicine book. You can tell the doctor to come here instead of to your
+house. Don't any of you dare to kiss Elly Precious good-by!"
+
+Miss Theodosia was moving briskly about the room, doing strange
+things,--pulling down shades and drawing together draperies.
+
+"Mustn't have too much light, though maybe that is later on, too. I'm
+sure there is something about being careful of the eyes. Evangeline,
+wait! Let Stefana go. I don't trust you; you might kiss him."
+
+"Yes'm, I might," sighed poor little Evangeline. "He's my darlin' dear."
+A terrible separation yawned before her like a bottomless pit of
+desolation. How was she to live Elly Preciousless?
+
+"Can't I come over an'--an' hold him when he isn't--when he isn't
+sneezing?" she suddenly sobbed forth. Miss Theodosia was too engrossed
+to be sympathetic. There were many things to think of.
+
+"Come over?--I should say not! You can't do anything but look through
+the window, and I shall ask the doctor if that's safe. Now
+listen--dear," again the "dear" slipped through her lips unconsciously.
+"Listen! When you see Stefana coming, you go out the back door! I wish
+I'd told her to bring him in the clothes basket instead of in her
+arms--"
+
+"I'll tell her to! Through the window. I'll tell her to bring him by the
+handles," and Evangeline hurried away excitedly.
+
+An hour later Miss Theodosia, in a voluminous white apron and a hastily
+invented white cap, had formally assumed her astonishing new role. Under
+the cap Miss Theodosia's cheeks were prettily pink. It was becoming to
+her to be Elly Precious' nurse. But the queer feeling of it! An hour ago
+Theodosia Baxter, in a big house, alone; now this becapped and
+pink-cheeked Theodosia in a house with a baby! It was an exciting
+change; what else might it become? She was a little afraid of Elly
+Precious.
+
+"Not now, while he is asleep, but when he wakes--" she thought. What
+would she do with Elly Precious when he waked?
+
+Of course, she had sent for the Reformed Doctor, and equally, of course,
+she would do precisely what he told her to do. But how would it feel? So
+far, it felt queer.
+
+"I'll wait and see," she concluded with philosophy. At six the doctor
+came. It was significant how he had left his role of authorship at home
+and came physicianly, brisk and competent.
+
+"Measles haven't changed, anyway, in ten years," he said as he removed
+his coat. Long ago, as a doctor, John Bradford had had his
+idiosyncrasies, and one of them had been to work in his shirt sleeves.
+The laying aside of his coat now had, if Miss Theodosia had but known,
+bridged over the ten years.
+
+"Am I quarantined?" demanded the nurse.
+
+"You are," promptly replied the doctor.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+Silence while the tiny patient was carefully examined, with so delicate
+a touch that he slept on.
+
+"For how long?" then.
+
+"Oh--weeks. Two, perhaps. Perhaps three. He is beginning to be feverish
+in earnest now. You got him over here just in time. May I have a glass
+of water?"
+
+Miss Theodosia went away to get it on shaking legs. She almost
+staggered. The plot was getting thick!
+
+"If you think his mother ought to be sent for--I'm afraid I'm in a blue
+funk!" She had returned and was splashing the water over the edge of the
+glass as she held it out. He laughed reassuringly. His face, turned
+sidewise up at her, was as reviving as cool water upon a faint. Miss
+Theodosia "came to."
+
+"I've got over it. Go ahead--tell me precisely what you want done. Write
+it down somewhere. I can read writing! And I can't forget it. Of course
+I can rock him?"
+
+He did not answer at once, and she misinterpreted his silence.
+
+"I shall rock him," she said with firmness. "Written down or not written
+down." And again he laughed, with the same curiously explosive little
+effect as when she had first heard him do it as a Shadow Man.
+
+It was long after he left before Elly Precious woke. With remarkable
+presence of mind, Miss Theodosia had darkened the room to make the
+difference between herself and Evangeline or Stefana as inconspicuous as
+possible. It helped. Elly Precious, even busy with his measles, might
+have vigorously refused this strange new ministering. But in the
+darkness he accepted it with a measure of resignation. He appeared to be
+looking inward at his own poor little pains instead of outward or upward
+at Miss Theodosia. She wisely refrained from speech during those first
+critical moments.
+
+Ten-year-old arms may not be as steady for cradling as thirty-six-year
+olds. Miss Theodosia's were steady and soft. The baby nestled into them
+and she rocked him.
+
+She was rocking a baby! She was glad to be alone in the dark. The
+sensation rather overwhelmed her. Then Elly Precious flung up little hot
+hands and touched her face, and the sensation was no longer a new one.
+Surely she had felt it before. Was it in another incarnation that she
+had rocked a little child? The small, hot hands tugged at her
+heartstrings--they must have tugged, just so, at that ancient rocking.
+It was a beautiful tune, but not a new tune that the small hands played.
+No, no--not new!
+
+Miss Theodosia began to croon softly, no longer afraid of sound. And
+Elly Precious snuggled deeper.
+
+Shut in together--she and he and the measles--they grew accustomed to
+each other. After the first, the days went rather fast, with
+Evangeline's help through the window and under the door. Evangeline
+helped from the first. Miss Theodosia found little letters emerging
+through the tight crack under her outside door. The first one she read
+smilingly:
+
+[Illustration: Evangeline established a stage of action outside the
+window.]
+
+"He likes jiggy tunes best--please sing him jiggy tunes."
+
+So she sang them to Elly Precious and found he liked them best;
+Evangeline knew. This method of helping promised to be valuable.
+
+One day there were two little letters under the door.
+
+"When he crys, he'll stop if you distrack him. Like this--_boo_--or make
+a cow-noise or a horse-noise, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes he
+keaps right on and then its no use to distrack him. Try tickleing unless
+tickleing is bad for measles."
+
+This was a long note. Miss Theodosia did not smile this time because of
+the new sensitiveness in the region of her heart. When she read the
+second note, she held it a long time in her hand while something wet
+blistered it in spots.
+
+"Please don't be mad if I worry a little for fear Elly Precious will
+throw off his cloes. He's a dreadfull throw-offer, so we pin his sides
+to the cloesbasket but maybe you don't sleep him in a cloesbasket. I
+couldent sleep last night.
+
+"P.S. With safety pins."
+
+Sometimes they were cheerful little letters that peeped under the tight
+crack. Evangeline wrote the news to Elly Precious. That Stefana's washes
+came easier now and Carruthers was good all the time, only they never
+let him be steam whistles, of course. That they all missed Elly Precious
+and hoped that they'd be short measles and, mercy gracious, yes, they
+loved him, and Aunt Sarah was knitting again.
+
+As the baby began to convalesce (they were short measles) and could sit
+up on Miss Theodosia's lap in front of the window, Evangeline's most
+important assistance began. For Elly Precious had very restless
+occasions and even Miss Theodosia's new skill failed always to
+"distrack" him.
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the biggest-paned,
+lowest-silled window, where vision was least obscured from within. On
+that stage she danced wild, long dances, varying with each performance.
+It was amazing how she varied them--sometimes bending and bowing
+tirelessly, sometimes evolving remarkable skirt dances from legs and
+toes and whirling petticoats. She grimaced unweariedly as long as Elly
+Precious would laugh at her faces. When he tired of those, she
+impersonated a cow--a horse--and made cow-noises and horse-noises at
+the top of her voice, to carry to Elly Precious.
+
+Day after day she came, and they watched her from the big-paned
+window--the baby and Miss Theodosia. It was a great help to the measles.
+
+"I never saw such a child!" Miss Theodosia said to the Reformed Doctor.
+"She never gets tired of doing it."
+
+"Never was but one Evangeline--but she gets tired all right. Needn't
+tell me!"
+
+"Then it's--love," Miss Theodosia said gently.
+
+"It is," nodded he.
+
+They had proceeded far in their acquaintance. Elly Precious had been so
+tiny a thing between them, as they ministered to him! It was not to be
+wondered at that they had drawn closer. After his professional "call,"
+John Bradford fell into the way of lingering till she brought him tea.
+
+"Talk about women loving tea!" she gibed gayly.
+
+"Talk about it being the men that want three lumps!"
+
+"That is queer, isn't it? We're the wrong way about; I like mine sweet
+and you don't want any sugar. We're the exceptions that prove the rule.
+If you'll hold Elly Precious a minute, I'll fill your cup."
+
+"That will make three."
+
+"'And I'll do it again, if you like--and again if you like!'" she
+quoted.
+
+"Are you making stories now?" she asked him that day.
+
+And he nodded gravely, "One--a love-story."
+
+"Tell me about it! We want to hear it, don't we, Elly Precious? We love
+love-stories."
+
+"Not yet. Not till it is a little farther along." He set the third cup
+down untasted. His face, as Miss Theodosia looked smilingly at it across
+the baby's head, had grown grave. She wondered simply. Miss Theodosia
+was not making a love-story.
+
+"Will you tell us about it when it's farther along? About the heroine
+and how she likes being in a love-story? Mercy gracious, it must be
+exciting!"
+
+"If I can find out how she likes it," was his enigmatic answer. "She may
+not work out as I want her to. Heroines are women, you know."
+
+"Well, of all things! If you can't make your heroine behave, I don't see
+who can!"
+
+"I don't," he said slowly. "But I shall do my best."
+
+Another day, she had something to show him, and she made a little
+mystery of it at first. She and Elly Precious knew! It was something
+sweet--it could be worn, but you seldom looked at it. It was soft and
+hard, too. You could--kiss it! When it was empty you wanted to kiss it,
+and when it was full you had to!
+
+"Show it to me!" he commanded; "think I can guess all that?"
+
+She brought it and laid it in his hands, delighted like a girl.
+
+"Feel of it--isn't it soft? And I never made one before, so it was hard!
+You seldom look at it, because it's worn in the dark. You'd like to kiss
+it now, it's so sweet, but when I put Elly Precious into it, you'll
+_have_ to kiss it! There, didn't I tell you right?"
+
+It was a little nightgown she had made for Elly Precious. He held it on
+his two big hands like something wonderful. Its little sleeves dangled
+over, and she caught one of them and squeezed it in a sort of soft
+ecstasy.
+
+"It's so little!" she cried in a whisper. "Aren't you going to kiss it?"
+
+"If you'll look away--I'm afraid to when you're looking."
+
+"I won't look," she laughed. "You look, Elly Precious!"
+
+The bath-times were the pleasantest to Miss Theodosia. Getting things
+together--little tub and powders and soaps and the fresh little
+clothes--was a beautiful beginning, and after that--after that, the
+deluge! The practice she had had washing that little ancient baby, in
+her former incarnation, stood Miss Theodosia in good stead! As she had
+bathed and rubbed and powdered her first baby eons ago, she bathed and
+rubbed and powdered this second one now. For she called Elly Precious
+her baby. That was their beautiful play.
+
+"We'll keep it a secret, won't we?--just between you and me, dear! We
+won't even tell Evangeline that you're my darlin' dear," she crooned
+over this second baby. Elly Precious played the game; he was a little
+sport, was Elly Precious.
+
+The morning after the little new-nightgown episode, the bath progressed
+thrillingly. That was, it seemed, the morning set by Elly Precious to
+give this new mother a glorious surprise. It could not be said that he
+had it up his little sleeve, being innocent of any manner of garment,
+but he had it prepared.
+
+Miss Theodosia dried the tiny body and set it far forward on her knees,
+facing her, and began as usual:
+
+"Now, baby, watch--watch hard! Make exactly the same noise I do." She
+put her lips in position for clear enunciation.
+
+"Mam--m-ma."
+
+Customarily, Elly Precious sat and chuckled gleefully and nakedly. This
+was a favorite play. But, oh, to-day--
+
+"Mum--mum," said Elly Precious distinctly. Miss Theodosia caught him to
+her, slippery and sweet, with a cry of rapture.
+
+"You said it! You said it, Elly Precious--darlin' dear! Now I shall wrap
+you in a beautiful soft blanket and sing you a jiggy tune! Before I
+dress you in horrid, bothery sleeves, we'll rock, and rock, you and
+make-believe mum-mum!"
+
+The big chair creaked delightsomely to the ears of Elly Precious. To its
+accompaniment sang Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Darlin' Dear! Darlin' Dear, Mum-Mum's here--oh, Elly Precious, I shall
+send you to college! Of course, to college. You shall be a doctor--" Was
+that the chair creaking, or a door? It was a door. On the doorsill stood
+the Reformed Doctor, gazing in. The blanket had slipped away and it was
+a beautiful, bare Elly Precious in Miss Theodosia's arms, against her
+breast. The little picture stood out, distinct. But so soon it faded.
+She was on her feet and facing that treacherous doorway. Flames burned
+on her cheeks.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of to pretend he is my baby! Well, I've
+done it--I'm pretending now. We were having a beautiful time till--"
+
+"Till I came."
+
+"Till you came. You heard what I said about making a doctor of him, I
+suppose?"
+
+He nodded. "I heard," he said meekly.
+
+"But you didn't give me time to say it all. I was going to say he'd stay
+a doctor and not reform!" With which Parthian shot, delivered with
+spirit, Miss Theodosia turned her back and Elly Precious' back to the
+intruder. What was left for him to do but retire, vanquished and
+diminished? The business of the bath went on, but joyless now. There was
+no further putting off of the horrid, bothery sleeves that Elly Precious
+abhorred. He set up indignant wails, and Miss Theodosia's soul wailed in
+unison.
+
+"All our dear good time spoiled! We're not pretending any more; you're
+Evangeline's darlin' dear. I'll put you on the bed and give you your
+bottle." So abruptly had the beautiful game come to an end. Miss
+Theodosia went away to prepare the bottle. As she went, a glint of white
+underneath the door to out-of-doors caught her attention. Evangeline had
+not tucked it under as far as usual. Perhaps it was not unnatural,
+considering her new mood, that Miss Theodosia picked up the little
+letter almost impatiently.
+
+"He says he can come home day after to-morrow if he don't colapse, so
+Stefana is cleaning the house and I'm helping and we can't hardly wait.
+We've got a new cloesbasket Stefana's going to make bows for the
+handles, tell Elly Precious.
+
+"P. S. Pink bows."
+
+Miss Theodosia was not impatient as she folded the little letter again.
+Tears stood in her eyes. She hurried back, bottleless, to Elly Precious,
+to tell him. That he had fallen asleep made no difference.
+
+"You are going home day after to-morrow! Dream it in a little dream,
+dear. When you wake up, it will be true. They can't hardly wait and
+there's a new 'cloesbasket' with bows--P. S., pink bows. Oh, Elly
+Precious, you know you're glad to go home! You've been pretending, too!"
+Game little Elly Precious, to pretend! She stooped and kissed his eyes,
+close shut in that dream of going home. "They are cleaning the house,"
+she whispered, "they can't hardly wait."
+
+A prescience of awful loneliness swept over her. She saw Theodosia
+Baxter--lone and babyless again--set back in her empty house. The
+curtain had gone down--would go down day after to-morrow--on the last
+beautiful act.
+
+"But I have two days left! I demand my pound--fifteen little pounds of
+flesh!" Elly Precious' little pink flesh. She would play that last act
+of the little game of make-believe. Intruders or no intruders, she would
+play it! At once, she began again where they had left off.
+
+"You will have to go to college very young, dear," she said. "They are
+going to take you away from me day after tomorrow. A day and a half is
+such a little college course; you'd be such a little Freshman, Elly
+Precious! So we will have to give it up, dear. We'll just spend our last
+days together. Who wants to know Latin and Greek anyway? I'll teach you
+to pat little cakes in English!" Surely, surely she must have taught her
+first baby to pat-a-cake. The blundering little hands in hers felt
+strangely familiar. The first baby had been just as funny and sweet as
+Elly Precious at that little lesson.
+
+"If I only had a little more time!" sighed Miss Theodosia. "There is so
+much left for us to do; it is cruel to hurry us so! We might--we might
+run away, dear! You and I. To Europe and Asia and Africa! I'd show you
+all the wonders of the world. Listen, Elly Precious,--the _pyramids_!
+Wouldn't you love to see the pyramids? You could play in the warm sand,
+anyway,--bury your little twelve toes deep! We would keep watch all the
+time and _run_ when we saw Evangeline coming. We would never stop to put
+on our shoes and stock--Elly Precious, you've gone to sleep!" So little
+was he thrilled at the prospect of pyramids.
+
+Miss Theodosia rocked him gently in her arms. Perhaps she would rock him
+the whole day and a half--they could not prevent her! She would not stop
+rocking if twenty Reformed Doctors came and looked at her. She would
+rock in their faces!
+
+A sudden and queer thought came to her of Cornelia Dunlap standing in
+the doorway, looking in as John Bradford had done.
+
+She saw the wreck of Cornelia's plump calm--Cornelia's wide-eyed
+amazement. After she had reluctantly deposited the small, limp body upon
+the couch to finish out the nap, she got her writing materials and wrote
+to Cornelia Dunlap, with a whimsical little smile playing about her
+lips. Her pen moved fast across the sheet.
+
+"The baby is having a beautiful nap. While he is asleep, I can write to
+you. Of course my time is limited--'what with' scalding and filling
+bottles and giving little baths--Cornelia Dunlap, go and get a little
+baby and wash him! In a tub, with your sleeves rolled up. Let him splash
+the water into your face--over your dress--hear him laugh! Give him the
+soap for a little ship a-sailing. Oh, Cornelia, teach him to pat-a-cake!
+Get a baby with the measles if there's no other way. You will love him
+in between all his little measles. But, listen to me; _take this
+advice_: Don't let them take him back! Hold on to both his little hands.
+Run away to Africa with him if there is no other way--he will love to
+play in the sand beside the pyramids. Send him to college, Cornelia, and
+I think--yes, make a doctor of him. Doctors are best.
+
+"Morituri salutamus--we who are about to lose our babies and die wish
+you happiness with yours, is the free translation. _Hold on to yours_.
+He is a dear, I know. He may be as dear as mine, but he hasn't twelve
+toes!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+It was the two days later and it was Evangeline. The child's radiant
+face lighted up the room.
+
+"He let me come! I promised Stefana I wouldn't kiss him till I got him
+home so's she could, too. He said to kiss his neck or behind his ears."
+As usual no confusion of personal pronouns troubled Evangeline.
+
+"Mercy gracious!--oh, mercy gracious, he's improved! He's fatter! I
+never thought measles'd be fattenin'! You're glad to see me, aren't you,
+darlin' dear? I'm Evangeline! I've come to take you home. We've got
+everything ready, only one bow, an' Stefana's piecin' that. Oh--my
+darlin' dear!"
+
+The curtain had gone down. Theodosia Baxter stood quite alone in her big
+room. In her ears was suddenly the shriek of a steam whistle of welcome;
+it died away, and the silence ached. A crumpled something half under a
+chair caught her eye and she openly sobbed. It was a forgotten little
+nightgown.
+
+"I'm going to Rome--I'm going to Paris--to Anywhere! I can't stand
+this!" she wailed. And then the creak of a door again.
+
+He stood on the door-sill looking in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+"I've done it again!" came from the doorway repentantly, "but this time
+I knocked, honest to goodness. Regular bangs! You ought to have heard,"
+his tone assuming an injured cadence.
+
+Miss Theodosia had recovered herself. She was unfeignedly glad to see
+him this time.
+
+"Maybe it was you, steam-whistling," she laughed. "I heard that! Oh, I
+am glad enough you came this time! You've saved me from a trip to
+Rome--tea is so much less expensive! I'll go and get it." She was off
+directly and back again in remarkably quick time with her little kettle
+and lamp. "Less time and fuss, too. See how little baggage! Now, Rome--"
+
+"Don't mention Rome!" There was a deep note in John Bradford's voice. He
+watched her making the tea. Miss Theodosia's hands were worth watching.
+
+"Speaking of steam whistles reminds me of ears," he said.
+
+"Naturally! The two go together, all right!" But she saw that his face
+remained grave. "Oh!--you mean the steam-whistler's ears--I see."
+
+"Yes, I have examined them rather carefully. They aren't hopeless little
+ears--not hopeless. I'm not ready to go any farther than that yet. But I
+intend--you see, I specialized in ears and a few other things at the
+University--in practice, too, before--before I reformed."
+
+Quickly Miss Theodosia looked up.
+
+"There! You are harking back; please don't hark back! It was mean in me
+to say it. I'm sorry! If I'd sent Elly Precious to college--while he was
+my baby--and given him a doctor's degree, he could have taken it or left
+it. He'd have had a right. Men have rights to their own lives."
+
+"Sure," but John Bradford's tone was thoughtful rather than emphatic.
+"Still--I sometimes wonder--"
+
+"Why?--tell me why!" Now she was championing the Reformed Doctor! "You
+could do as you pleased, couldn't you? It was your own life you were
+'reforming.' Still, I wonder, too. Tell me how it happened."
+
+"How do I know how it happened?" He was walking up and down the room.
+"It was in my blood to write stories. I wrote them every chance I could
+get. Had to write them. I suppose I woke up to the rather decent
+conclusion that a man can't serve two masters and serve them well. Isn't
+efficient. So I chose my favorite master. There you have it in a
+nutshell. May I have mine in a teacup?"
+
+She filled the dainty shell, but it rattled a little on its saucer. Miss
+Theodosia felt about for less moving things; she was strangely moved.
+
+"How is the love story getting on?" she asked.
+
+"The--oh! Well, it had a setback awhile ago. Setbacks are not good for
+love stories. But I shall go to work on it again."
+
+"At once--to-day?" What was this sudden freak of hers to drive him to
+work?--the work she had all but derided before.
+
+"To-day. I'm working on it now--that is--er--"
+
+"Before and after--tea," she smiled. "Well, I shall help you all I can
+on that story. I feel in a penitent mood. When you begin on it again--"
+
+"I've begun on it again."
+
+"After you go home, I mean. When you go to work again, make believe I'm
+David Copperfield's Dora--holding the pens!" Too late she saw her error
+and hedged. "Or cups of tea to keep up your strength."
+
+"I like pens better. If Dora were there--"
+
+"One more cup? You've only had one. The cups are no size at all. And
+while you drink it, tell me about your heroine. What have you named
+her?"
+
+"Dora," he said promptly. "You see, you've helped already."
+
+It was pleasant, drinking tea like this, with John Bradford there,
+opposite, having his second cup. A pleasant way to drink tea--with a
+John! Miss Theodosia hugged herself happily. Even the forgotten little
+nightgown on the floor failed to diminish her content. She had not
+forgotten Elly Precious; she was merely making the most of the
+ameliorations the gods offered. The kind gods. But conscience had to put
+in its pious oar.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time; I don't know whether you are or not. But
+I'm going to send you back to that love story. I hope the Recording
+Angel will give me a white mark for it, or cross out a black one. The
+goodness of me! I've been sitting here trying to strangle my conscience,
+but you see it isn't my own--it's my grandmother's conscience; you have
+to respect your grandmother's conscience. You'll have to go."
+
+"I can work on it here," he pleaded, but she shook her head mournfully.
+
+"I haven't the materials. It takes special paper, doesn't it, and pens?"
+
+"I could--er--think up my plot."
+
+"With me talking a blue streak? I should talk a blue streak; that's my
+grandmother's, too. No, you must go. How will you ever get it done, if
+you don't?"
+
+"I sha'n't if I do. Staying here is doing me good. I need to 'get up
+more strength.'"
+
+She laughed, but remembered her grandmother. "No more tea," she said
+kindly. "Conscience! But I'll tell you--you may come back after you've
+worked."
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+And for many to-morrows he came back. On one of them the talk once more
+reverted to the book that the Story Man was understood to be writing, in
+some mysterious Place of Pens and Paper.
+
+"I hope it's a regular romance," Miss Theodosia said.
+
+"Romance? What is that? Is there such a thing? There may have been
+once--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks took on faint color. She turned upon him.
+
+"Once nothing! I can't help it if that is slang; the occasion demands
+slang. Are you trying to tell me romance is dead?"
+
+He nodded. "Sterilized--Pasteurized--boiled out of us. I suppose," he
+sighed, "we are more hygienic, but we have faded in the process. It
+dulls romance to Pasteurize it."
+
+She held up a staying hand.
+
+"Please!" she said, "in words of one syllable and maybe you can convince
+me. But you can't. Do you mean to say there are no sweet, blushing girls
+left, with--with dreams?"
+
+Again his sigh. It pained him to disillusion her.
+
+"Not blushing ones. I tell you the color won't stand our modern
+sterilization process. I misdoubt the dreams, too. If they dream 'em,
+they're of independence and careers and votes; you wouldn't call those
+romantic dreams, would you? The little 'clinging vines'--" he waved them
+back into the past with a comprehensive sweep of his hand--"all gone.
+Our present-day soil is too invigorating, too stimulating. The
+young things stand up on their own roots. No more clinging. Each one
+aspires to be a spunky little tree by herself. Look at 'em and see for
+yourself--the subways and elevateds are full of 'em at the crush hours,
+nights and mornings--all glorying in their independence--their fine,
+strong, young roots. No blushing, no clinging there! Are you convinced?"
+
+"I am not," flashed Miss Theodosia gamely. "There must be one little
+dreamer of love dreams left."
+
+"Show her to me."
+
+"That isn't fair. I'm not in a way to know girls. I know just Stefana."
+
+"And Evangeline."
+
+"And Evangeline," laughed Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Is she romantic?" demanded the Story Man. And there he had Miss
+Theodosia. She had instant vision of Evangeline growing, straight and
+thrifty already, on her own small roots. It was not possible to
+visualize a blushing--a clinging little Evangeline.
+
+"She is still young," Miss Theodosia murmured. "Besides, she's one of a
+kind. There's only one Evangeline. You can't reason by only one of
+anything. The exception proves the rule."
+
+"Then you yield me Evangeline?"
+
+"Yes, you may have her on your side," conceded Miss Theodosia
+generously. It was rather in the way of a relief to shift the
+responsibility for Evangeline. Miss Theodosia suddenly bubbled into low
+laughter.
+
+"She is going to be a plumber."
+
+"Evangeline a plumber?"
+
+"Yes, because she's got to be rich, she says. She's 'sick 'n' tired' of
+being poor, and you can make such _darlin_', roary, snappy fires in a
+tin pail! Plumberin' will be fun."
+
+He laughed a little, too, enjoyingly, but returned to his arguings. Said
+he:
+
+"_Be_ a plumber, not marry one, you see. What did I tell you? Oh, you
+have no monopoly on Evangelines! The woods are full of tame Evangelines,
+anyway. You will have to come over to my side."
+
+"Not at all. I haven't given up my own side. I shall hold on a little
+while longer. I am not going to admit _yet_ that all sentiment is dead
+and buried. And, anyhow, I don't see what it's being dead or alive has
+to do with your story. I thought authors were creators. Can't you create
+a little sentiment--romance? To my order?" she added demurely.
+
+Replied the Story Man with grave eyes: "I shall do my best. We are a
+good deal at the mercy of our heroines. But I will do all that I can to
+win mine over, dear lady. Heaven knows I want to!"
+
+"Then you are on my side now; you have changed your mind!" she cried
+tauntingly. "Woman, thy name is not Fickleness, it is thy husband's
+name! Well, I am glad it is going to be my kind of a story. How did I
+know but it was to be a historical novel or a problem story--ugh! And,
+instead, you're going to make love to your heroine in the dear old
+thrilly way."
+
+He stirred in his seat, and his eyes sought his hostess. But Miss
+Theodosia's eyes were cheerfully following the infinitesimal stitches
+with which she was rimming an infinitesimal round hole in the bit of
+linen in her hand.
+
+"How far have you got?" she questioned over a new stitch.
+
+"Not very far," sadly; "I think I am a little afraid of my heroine."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Well, I think I'd take her by the ear and march her
+round to suit myself! If I wanted her to say '_yes_'--do you want her to
+say 'yes'?"
+
+Did he want her to say yes!
+
+"I'm trying to lead her up to it," he said gently. Miss Theodosia bit
+off her thread.
+
+"March her up to it, march her! You're too gentle with her. What is the
+use of being a Story Man? Might as well be a plumber like Evangeline!"
+
+It was at this moment that Evangeline appeared on the little Flagg
+horizon. They saw her coming their way, loaded as usual with Elly
+Precious. The sag of her wiry little figure on the Elly Precious side
+appealed strongly to Miss Theodosia. She dropped her foolish bit of
+linen and hurried to meet that little sag. When she came back with Elly
+Precious in her own arms, the Story Man was wandering away. He waved his
+hat to them smilingly.
+
+"Please drop him--drop Elly Precious," Evangeline said, "anywheres
+_soft_. I don't want him to distrack your mind. You play with your dolly
+an' be a darlin' dear, Elly Precious, while we talk."
+
+Very gently Evangeline subtracted Elly Precious from Miss Theodosia and
+removed him to an undisturbing distance. Then she returned and stood
+before Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Stefana was born to-morrow," Evangeline stated gravely. "You didn't
+know, of course, nor neither did I till it kind of came out. I told
+him," nodding in the direction taken by the Story Man. "We plotted up a
+hatch--I mean we hatched up a plot. He said to talk it over with you. I
+don't know what he's goin' to do, but he'll do it--he said he would. An'
+I thought--I thought--" Unwonted hesitations disturbed Evangeline's
+smooth flow of speech. She sat down suddenly.
+
+"I guess I can say it easier sittin' than I could standin'. It's some
+hard to say--it's so kind of _bareheaded_. But I don't know what else
+to do. You see, Stefana'd hear me beatin' the eggs an' stirrin', if I
+did 'em at home. An' besides, it would fall--oh, mercy gracious, I know
+it would! I thought if I could do it over here--"
+
+"Evangeline," Miss Theodosia said gently, "drop your voice at a period
+and begin all over with a capital letter. Take your time, dear."
+
+Said Evangeline with a sigh: "I'll try standin' up. I guess I kind of
+mixed you up, didn't I? You see, what I _meant_ was, could I make
+Stefana's birthday cake over here to your house where she can't hear me
+stirrin'?"
+
+"Oh, Stefana's birthday! That is why she was 'born to-morrow.'"
+
+"Yes'm, in a thunder storm. I've heard Mother tellin'. It will have to
+be a graham cake."
+
+"A--what kind of cake, Evangeline? Maybe you'd better try sitting down;
+I don't think I just understand."
+
+"No'm, no'm, I guess you wouldn't, because you probably can always 'ford
+white flour. I thought if I frosted it over real white, it would hide
+the grahamness. I've got two eggs."
+
+Understanding came to Miss Theodosia, though a little slowly. Was she
+growing stupid?
+
+"Evangeline, we'll make Stefana's cake together; we'll take turns
+'stirrin''! We'll do it over here and keep it a beautiful secret."
+
+The child was standing up now certainly, her wiry little body a-tilt
+with excitement, a-quiver with it. Evangeline's eyes shone.
+
+"Oh, I knew you would! I knew you would! You're such a _nangel!_ If you
+was a kind of folks that liked to be kissed--"
+
+The soft pink of Miss Theodosia's cheeks! She lifted her head and sat
+very still.
+
+"Come and try me, dear. Maybe I am that kind of folks." And in a little
+whirlwind of tender gratitude descended Evangeline upon her. It was a
+whole-souled kiss, the only brand possible to Evangeline.
+
+"I--I am that kind!" gasped Miss Theodosia, emerging laughing but
+tender-eyed. "Now let's begin the cake."
+
+"Oh, yes, mercy gracious, yes! I'll go get the eggs 'n' graham flour,
+an'--an' molasses. Could we sweeten it with molasses, Miss Theodosia?
+It'll take all o' my sugar for the frostin'. We are pretty used to bein'
+sweetened with molasses--"
+
+Miss Theodosia had a swift mental taste on her tongue of Stefana's
+graham birthday cake, molasses-sweet. There were her heartstrings at
+their odd little twitching again!
+
+"You won't have to go home at all, Evangeline. I've got all the
+materials--" but at sight of the child's face, a little fallen and
+troubled, she hastily appended--"except the eggs. I guess you'd better
+go home and get those."
+
+"Two!" sang Evangeline joyously, already on her way; "I've got two.
+Two's a lot of eggs, isn't it?"
+
+They mixed and beat and stirred together, and Evangeline never knew how
+many more eggs than two went into the rich golden batter. Elly Precious,
+tied for safety-first into one of Miss Theodosia's chairs, looked on
+with an interest more or less intermittent; when Evangeline's offerings
+of "teeny speckles" of toothsome batter were delayed, the interest
+flagged. The baking time was for Evangeline a period of utmost
+anxiety--there were so many direful things that might happen to
+Stefana's cake. If it fell down or burned up--
+
+"Oh!" she breathed with infinite relief when the strain was over, and
+only lovely things had happened to the cake, "I'm so happy I could sing
+if I had any vocal strings! That's queer about me, isn't it? I don't
+have any trouble with my _talkin'_ strings."
+
+"Not a bit," agreed Miss Theodosia gayly. "What makes you think you
+couldn't sing?"
+
+"Because once I tried to sing Elly Precious to sleep an' it woke him up,
+awfully up. He was scared. So I always talk him to sleep. Miss
+Theodosia, don't birthday cakes sometimes have candles round the edge of
+'em? I don't mean Stefana's, of course, but rich folks' birthday cakes."
+
+"_I_ mean Stefana's. Evangeline, we'll have thirteen candles!" but
+inwardly she was wondering if forty would not fit better round the edge
+of aged little Stefana's birthday cake. "And we'll decorate it--write
+something on the top, you know. We'll make the Story Man do it for us."
+
+Evangeline was awed into near-silence. "You mean--poetry? Mercy
+gracious, poetry!"
+
+"Something lovely," nodded Miss Theodosia a little vaguely. If it be
+poetry, the Story Man must do that part, too. A little later, when
+Evangeline had shouldered Elly Precious and departed and the Story Man
+had sauntered again into sight, she hailed him with relief. Displaying
+the snowy little cake, she explained the situation.
+
+"You must do the rest. We want a 'sentiment' on it, Evangeline and I.
+What is the use of being a literary person if you cannot inscribe a
+birthday cake?"
+
+He groaned a little, reminiscently. He remembered the autograph albums
+of his bashful youth. How much better than an autograph album was a
+frosted cake?
+
+"Something appropriate, you know," encouraged Miss Theodosia, brightly.
+"In lovely pink writing on top."
+
+"'She hath starched what she could,'" he offered tentatively.
+
+"Oh, for shame! Something nice and romantic."
+
+"But romance is dead--hold on, I beg pardon! That is not decided yet; I
+remember. You shall have your poetry, you and Evangeline. Something
+after this wise:
+
+ "'Our most esteemed Stefana,
+ May rough winds never pain her'
+
+"Do winds 'pain' people? But, to speak modestly, I call that a pretty
+neat sentiment to turn out extempo like that. 'Stefana'--you can't deny
+Stefana is a hard word to rhyme with. Now tell me a harder one!"
+
+"Evangeline--Theodosia," she murmured. Her eyes dwelt lovingly on the
+little white cake. He should not make fun of it!
+
+"I'll decorate it myself," she said, "I'll have a little pink heart on
+it--_two_ little pink hearts."
+
+"With but a single thought. Make them with but a single thought--beat
+them as one. There! I'm perfectly sober and sane now. It's a fine little
+cake, and I'm not worthy to write poetry for it.
+Longfellow--Shakespeare--Whitcomb Riley--we'll canvass them. Don't think
+I'm not respectful to Stefana's birthday."
+
+"I don't know what you call respect!" she retorted. But she knew the
+next day. She found out what he called respect. The knowledge came, as
+so much that was worth while came, through Evangeline, Elly Precious in
+its wake. They came running this time. Elly Precious' small body rolled
+and lurched with their hurry and the agitation of Evangeline's soul.
+
+"Somethin's--happened."
+
+"Give me the baby. Sit down, dear. Now."
+
+"The flower wagon brought Stefana--roses," whispered Evangeline. "In a
+long box--an' tissue paper. Oh, my mercy gracious, stopped right
+straight at our house! An' nobody dead." Evangeline's whisper rose to a
+weird little cry. The wonder of the flower wagon stopping right
+straight! And every one alive!
+
+"Stefana's countin' 'em. I guess she's counted 'em a hundred times.
+They's--thirteen! They've got the longest stems you ever _saw_! Stefana
+can't get over their stems; she said they most made her cry."
+
+For very breath Evangeline stopped. Over the little uneasy head of Elly
+Precious shone Miss Theodosia's eyes. Miss Theodosia was softly
+thrilled. The stems appealed, too, to her; she loved them long--long.
+
+"Roses, you say? Oh, Evangeline! Birthday roses for Stefana! What
+color?"
+
+"Red--red--red," chanted Evangeline "Thirteen red roses an' thirteen
+long stems. In a pasteboard box with 'Miss Stefana Flagg' wrote on it.
+You ought to seen how Miss Stefana Flagg looked! She--she kissed the
+box. I guess now she's kissin' the roses. She never 'spected to have any
+roses till she was dead. An' then she couldn't 've kissed 'em an' cried
+at the stems," added Evangeline softly. She was suddenly a softened
+little Evangeline, curiously gentled by Stefana's sweet, red roses. Miss
+Theodosia caught her breath at the sight of the child's face and the
+thought of Stefana kissing her roses.
+
+"I wish--I wish you'd go over an' congratcherlate Stefana," whispered
+Evangeline. "She'd be so tickled. I'll keep Elly Precious ever here, an'
+Carruthers is playin' ball in a field." As though this ceremony of
+'congratcherlation' demanded quiet and privacy.
+
+And by and by Miss Theodosia went. She had a whimsical impulse to carry
+her little silver card case, but she did not yield to the whimsey. She
+did take off her little white apron and smoothe her hair. Stefana to-day
+was a person for ceremonies and respect. Oh, the kindness, the clearness
+of those long-stemmed roses! She had not thought to do it herself, but
+he--a man creature--Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender.
+
+Stefana was still sitting among her roses. They lay across her lap.
+
+"Oh! Oh, come right in, Miss Theodosia!" she cried welcomingly. "But
+please to excuse me for not getting up--I can't bear to disturb them.
+Seems as if I could sit right straight in this chair till they withered!
+I'm breathing easy so not to breathe the smell out. I never had any
+roses before."
+
+Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. She whispered a little laugh.
+
+"Seems as if I'd ought to be married while I have 'em! They're such
+beautiful roses to be married in!"
+
+And this was Stefana, their matter-of-fact, starchy little white-washer!
+This rapt, dreamy little face was Stefana's face!
+
+"Sometimes," Stefana murmured, "sometimes I've dreampt--" but Miss
+Theodosia did not quite catch what it was Stefana had sometimes
+"dreampt," but it was something sweet. Stefana a little dreamer of sweet
+dreams! One of them must have been a rose-dream, and this was that dream
+come true.
+
+The call of congratulation was a brief one. It seemed little short of
+irreverence to have seen at all that picture of Stefana rocking her
+roses in the little wooden rocker. Miss Theodosia slipped away with it
+hung on the walls of her mind--she would never take it down.
+
+John Bradford was coming along the road and she went a little way to
+meet him. Some of Stefana's radiance was in her own face.
+
+"I've found it," she announced in soft triumph.
+
+"Good!" he hazarded at random. It was always good to find things. But he
+wondered at the radiance.
+
+"My romance that I knew was somewhere. I've found it! I told you so!"
+
+"Found it where?" he demanded. He was unconsciously stirred by her
+emotion. He followed her glance to the little House of Flaggs.
+"Not--there?"
+
+"Yes, there. Stefana is dreaming it over a lapful of red roses. I have
+been there and seen her. Is romance dead--is it? Go and look at
+Stefana!" But she held him back from going. "No, no, I didn't mean it!
+Not in cold blood--I didn't go in cold blood. You will have to take my
+word for it."
+
+"I will take your word."
+
+"That romance is not dead?"
+
+"That romance is alive. But who would have thought of it's being
+_Stefana_!"
+
+"Who would have thought!" echoed Miss Theodosia.
+
+Elly Precious was fretting restlessly when she got back. The children
+were on the porch.
+
+"Nothing's the matter with him," Evangeline explained, "unless it's
+because he's a-goin' to be taken. I told him he was. It is kind of
+scaring to be taken. I feel kind of that way, too."
+
+"Taken where?"
+
+"Not any where--just _taken_. His picture an' mine an'
+Carruthers'--we're all goin' to be taken now, pretty soon. I must go
+home an' prink Elly Precious an' Carruthers. You see, Mr. Bradford
+promised to take Stefana because it's her birthday, an' first we knew he
+said he'd take all o' us! He's got a camera. That's him now! I guess
+he's waitin' for Elly Precious an' me."
+
+She was hurrying away, but bethought herself of something. "The cake!"
+she said. "If Elly Precious'll be still, I can carry it on my other arm.
+Maybe we'll be so busy being taken that I can't come over again before
+supper."
+
+"Run along," Miss Theodosia said; "I'll take it over. I haven't quite
+got it ready yet," for there were the two little pink hearts to
+add,--Stefana's heart and a little dream-heart. She smiled tenderly over
+the fashioning of those little pink hearts. Miss Theodosia was not an
+artist--they wavered and leaned, but they leaned toward each other!
+Perhaps they were better to be little leaning hearts.
+
+She carried the cake over, covered with a napkin. There were other
+things, too, that she had prepared, and several trips were necessary. A
+mold of quivering, scarlet jelly, full of fascinating glints of light;
+scalloped, currant-rich cookies, a little platter of cold chicken--Miss
+Theodosia carried them all over covered with napkins.
+
+Evangeline was putting the finishing touches to the supper-table, which
+was brave with the best Flagg dishes. It was rather a pitiful little
+bravery, but satisfying to Evangeline. She hurried Miss Theodosia aside
+and talked very fast.
+
+"I've sent Stefana out with Elly Precious. We're goin' to blind her an'
+lead her in an' count one--two--_look_! She'll see the cake the very
+quickest thing! She won't cut off an inch o' the stems, so they're kind
+of tall up 'n' down, you see. I mean the roses. I've put a corset steel
+o' Mother's in an' kind of tied 'em to it. I hope you don't see any
+corset steel."
+
+"No." Miss Theodosia looked not at the centerpiece of roses but at the
+cake, the tremulous jelly, the platter,--anywhere else. "No, I don't see
+any, dear."
+
+"It's perfectly lovely, isn't it? Mercy gracious--oh, mercy gracious!
+It'll _dazzle_ Stefana. An' most every speck you did, Miss Theodosia.
+Won't you please stay? Won't you _please_ to please?"
+
+"No," for the sixth time persisted Miss Theodosia. "I'm going before
+Stefana gets back. This is a Flagg celebration, dear. Just little
+Flaggs."
+
+Evangeline drew a long breath. Then little twinkles lighted in her eyes.
+
+"Well," she said, "they'll be star-spangled Flaggs to-night!"
+
+She followed Miss Theodosia to the door. Even then she could not stop
+talking. Her excited little voice followed Miss Theodosia home.
+
+"He took us! He's blue-printing us to see if we wiggled. Elly Precious
+did--mercy gracious! But maybe one of him, just one, didn't. He's goin'
+to make reg'lar black an' white pictures of the unwiggled ones. I guess
+you'll be surprised when you see us!" She was surprised. John Bradford
+brought the little blue pictures to her the next day. They bent over
+them together.
+
+"Oh!" Miss Theodosia uttered softly, for the pictures were instantly
+tangled in her heartstrings. She could hardly bear the one unwiggled one
+of Elly Precious. He was draped in tall red roses; they covered his
+little body and trailed their stems about his outspread legs. He had the
+effect of peeping at Miss Theodosia through roses. But what she could
+see of him was Elly Precious--her baby.
+
+"Stefana posed him," the Story Man said, smilingly. "And Evangeline and
+Carruthers, too. Look at Evangeline."
+
+Across Evangeline trailed the roses. It was a rigid, terribly rigid,
+Evangeline, but the roses saved her. Some softening grace emanated from
+them and touched the solemn little face. A little more of Evangeline
+than of Elly Precious peeped from behind them.
+
+"Carruthers!--et, tu, Carruthers!" murmured Miss Theodosia. For here
+again was the trail of the roses. Stefana had "posed" them in all the
+little pictures. The effect of a rose-draped Carruthers was almost
+startling. He gazed from behind them stolidly, unsmiling and
+unhappy-souled. Carruthers did not enjoy being taken.
+
+"Now look at Stefana," John Bradford said. This was his special
+exhibit--exhibit S. He watched Miss Theodosia's face as she glanced at
+the little blue print.
+
+No roses trailing there. Just a radiant-faced Stefana gazing at Miss
+Theodosia. It was the same face that hung on the walls of her memory.
+Miss Theodosia had the sense of roses there, out of sight; it was as if
+Stefana rocked them gently in her lap.
+
+"She wouldn't wear the flowers herself," the Story Man was saying;
+"Neither Evangeline nor I could make her. Queer little freak."
+
+"She is wearing them!" smiled Miss Theodosia, "I can see them. It's only
+because you are a man that you can't see,--you and Evangeline! Look at
+the roses in Stefana's eyes--in her soul--"
+
+"Oh, you woman! Women are curious things."
+
+"Women are romantic things--oh, you man! Why should you understand us
+Stefanas with your unsentimental soul-of-a-man? What do you know about
+our dreams?" She had not meant to say quite that. "Stefana's dreams,"
+she corrected herself. "What do you know about them? And still--"
+
+Miss Theodosia looked up from the radiant little face of Stefana with
+her dream-roses to the man-face beside her own.
+
+"And still--you sent the roses," she said softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+A letter came to Miss Theodosia one day. Queer how disturbing a letter
+could be when for so long peace had enveloped her travel-worn spirit,
+though it might have been because of the peace that she was disturbed.
+Ordinarily a letter from Cornelia Dunlap was the forerunner of
+interesting events to break the monotony of life. But life was not
+monotonous now, and it presented interesting events without the
+intervention--mentally and unkindly Miss Theodosia termed it
+interference--of Cornelia Dunlap.
+
+"Why need Cornelia write me now, or if she does write, why can't she
+talk about mushrooms?" which were Cornelia's most recent palliative to
+her self-imposed and brief sojourns in her little home town. It had been
+cats when she and Miss Theodosia returned from Spain, Belgian hares
+after their long stay in Egypt. Miss Theodosia herself had never tried
+mushrooms nor Belgian hares. She had borne her short homecomings
+unpalliated, and had flitted again relievedly. Usually she and Cornelia
+Dunlap had flitted together. They had formed the flitting habit when
+family bereavements had left them both lonely women.
+
+"Why must she write about Japan?" sighed Miss Theodosia now, over the
+disturbing letter. "What do I care about Japan?" Yet she always had
+cared about Japan. Cornelia Dunlap and she had left that delectable
+country of cherry blossoms and quaint, kimona-ed women for their old
+age, they said, to help them bear it. But Cornelia had forgotten that.
+
+"Let's go to Japan," she wrote. "I can pack in twenty-four hours; how
+long will it take you? We'll stay there till cherry blossom time.
+Frankly, Theodosia Baxter, I am bored, and you needn't tell me that you
+aren't--frankly--too. You haven't even mushrooms (they didn't earn their
+own living, my dear. I don't know what the trouble was). 'My native
+country, thee,'--I love it. I tell you I do! You know yourself that I
+never stay overnight in a place without unfurling my country's flag.
+Remember in sunny Italy?--the little brown bambino that cheered my
+colors? But I love my country best--in Japan! Come, dear, pack--pack! If
+I can leave my mushrooms, I guess you can leave your lonesome, big house
+in Nowhere."
+
+Miss Theodosia dreamed a little over her letter, of the little island of
+romance and flowers and fans. They did not need to wait; they could go
+again when they were old.
+
+She told John Bradford at their next meeting of the lure of Japan,
+though in her heart she was not lured. She was not "bored"; it was not a
+big, lonesome house in Nowhere! She would tell Cornelia Dunlap so. She
+would tell her that Flaggs were better than mushrooms--they earned their
+own living! Cornelia could run away alone to Japan to her cherry
+blossoms.
+
+But John Bradford had his scare, and through him Evangeline hers. Gloom
+settled on Evangeline. If her beloved lady was going away--the bitter,
+bitter taste of life without the beloved lady! But the inspiration that
+flashed into Evangeline's nimble mind temporarily comforted her. She set
+about its carrying-out. Inspirations were sweet morsels under
+Evangeline's tongue.
+
+To Miss Theodosia on her porch, telling Cornelia Dunlap that Japan had
+no lure, came a solemn procession across the grass. Evangeline led, with
+the effect of walking backward--though she walked straight ahead--and
+waving a baton. Stefana had Elly Precious, and Carrathers tramped
+soberly behind, in time to that imaginary wand. Miss Theodosia's
+fascinated gaze was riveted to the procession's arms. The wonder grew
+with nearness. Every individual parader in the procession wore a somber
+black arm-band. Elly Precious held his small member straight out from
+his side as if a little afraid of it.
+
+"Evangeline!" uttered Miss Theodosia. It did not occur to her to address
+any one but Evangeline. Instinctively she recognized that the procession
+was Evangeline.
+
+"Halt!" with an imaginary flourish. "Right about your faces!" Then
+Evangeline turned to Miss Theodosia and offered her sad little
+explanation.
+
+"We're in mournin'," she said. "All of us are--on our sleeves. Elly
+Precious's doesn't stay on very well."
+
+"Evangeline!" again cried Miss Theodosia, this time in a startled voice.
+Fears beset her. Was it the mother, or had poor Aunt Sarah raveled out?
+How could it have happened so suddenly--a bolt out of the clear little
+Flagg skies?
+
+"It's you," Evangeline said. Miss Theodosia settled a little in her
+chair and waited. In time--Evangeline's time--she would know. Elly
+Precious held out his rigid little mourning arm and softly whimpered.
+
+"Give him to me, Stefana; he wants to come to me," Miss Theodosia said,
+extending welcoming hands. Very gently she relieved the tension of the
+small arm.
+
+"We're in mournin' for you," Evangeline explained sadly. "_He_ said we
+might as well make up our minds, I tied a stockin' round his arm, but he
+took it off again because he said he didn't wear his stockin's--no, I
+guess it wasn't his stockin's; it was his heart--on his sleeves. But he
+said he was in mournin', too."
+
+Miss Theodosia gave it up. She appealed to Stefana in gentle despair.
+
+"You tell me, dear. What does she mean?"
+
+"We're so sorry you are going to Japan, and Evangeline said we ought to
+go into mourning, so we went," explained the quiet Stefana.
+
+"She cried; you know you did, Stefana Flagg! I would've, only I was
+gettin' the mournin' ready. I'm _goin_' to."
+
+"Don't cry!" Miss Theodosia said, though she was doing it herself. The
+pulling of her heartstrings! "Don't cry, Evangeline dear. I wish we
+could take back Stefana's tears."
+
+"You mean--you ain't goin'?"
+
+"I ain't goin'," repeated Miss Theodosia, tremulously smiling. "Japan! I
+wouldn't go to _six_ Japans!"
+
+"Then take it off o' our arms, quick! You take off Carruthers', Stefana.
+I'll undo Elly Precious's. Oh, goody! Oh, mercy gracious, I feel 's if
+we ought to take hold o' hands an'--an' _wave_!"
+
+At the end of her letter to Cornelia Dunlap Miss Theodosia wrote: "You
+can't tempt me with all your cherry blossoms. I've got home, Cornelia,
+and all my little Flaggs are waving. Come and see _my_ Flaggs."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+It was mid-September and Miss Theodosia found out-of-doors a pleasant
+place to be. She had made an errand down to the business portion of the
+little town for the sheer pleasure of the going and coming,--a morning
+errand, as the afternoons were sacred to tea,--and now was coming
+leisurely back, sniffing the sun-sweet air. She turned off the quiet,
+side street she had been using as a long way home, into the main street
+of the town, only to find her progress interrupted by unseemly and noisy
+crowds. Miss Theodosia loved all things seemly and quiet. How she
+despised a crowd, and this one--she brought up short in actual disgust
+on the outer edge of it. Thus was her stately little progress stayed.
+People surged about her and jostled her good-naturedly. She was in the
+crowd.
+
+"What is it? Has there been an accident?" she inquired of the nearest
+jostler. It was a ragged and radiant child.
+
+"Axident! Didn't ye know there was a circus? We're waitin' for the
+p'rade. I hear it! I hear it comin'!"
+
+The crowd surged ahead toward the street curb. Against her will, Miss
+Theodosia surged, too. Loud cries filled her ears--ecstatic cries of
+little children. Down the usually quiet street marched, in all its
+brilliancy of color and tinsel and tawdry splendor, the street parade.
+Horses curvetted, elephants patiently plodded, huge cars of mystery
+swung by; clowns smirked, to the riotous joy of that awful crowd.
+
+"See him sittin' tail to! That one there--there!"
+
+"Look-a that one with the spotted panth! Look at him throw kitheth!"
+
+"They's man-eatin' lions in that cage--see the lady sittin' with 'em!"
+
+"See that man top o' the band waggin that shoots up his neck
+_yards_--quick! See him shorten it again!"
+
+Miss Theodosia saw all, against her will. All her thirty-six years she
+had held aside her dainty skirts from people who went to circuses, but
+how could she hold them aside now? There was not room. She was caught in
+the swirl and noise and glee.
+
+Suddenly a familiar voice struck her ear. Evangeline's voice! Drawn up
+on the curbing in a vantage-spot that only they who come early and
+patiently wait can secure, was the entire family of little Flaggs. At a
+new angle Miss Theodosia was able to see plainly their breathless
+ecstasy. She could hear what Evangeline was saying.
+
+"Oh, isn't it elegant--oh, look, Stefana! Oh, don't you hope circuses'll
+be free in Heaven--not jus' the p'rade, but the show!"
+
+Then and there Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed unmercifully; she
+could not do anything with them; they would throb. In vain she turned
+away--looked at other faces--listened to other voices. It was Evangeline
+she heard, with her wistful cry, and the little line of Flaggs that she
+saw.
+
+"There's Miss Theodosia--there, there, Stefana! She's come to the
+p'rade!"
+
+"Miss Theodosia! Miss Theodosia! Look, Elly Precious, quick!" And it was
+Elly Precious she saw, held high by eager arms. That minute she yielded
+to the wild impulse within. She pressed forward to speaking distance.
+
+"Who will go to the show with me this afternoon? All in favor say aye."
+
+"Mercy gracious, you don't honest mean--"
+
+"Miss Theodosia!" Stefana's lean little face actually whitened.
+
+"I honest mean. Isn't anybody going to say aye?"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+The joyous chorus of "I's"! The jubilant waving of every little Flagg!
+For the moment, the gorgeous tinseled parade was forgotten in the vaster
+anticipative glories of the show. Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed
+a little louder but tunefully. She had forgotten her skirts.
+
+Shows begin early and last long. Miss Theodosia's show began at the
+opening of the gates. She and her little string of followers filed in.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Evangeline in awesome delight at the vision
+spread before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Miss Theodosia. They were different mercy
+graciouses. But a miracle was on the way to her, coming straight and
+fast through the crowds of festive circus-goers. Very soon now--in an
+hour--in another moment--It arrived! Miss Theodosia felt herself
+yielding to the lure of the sawdust and the side shows--the pink
+lemonade and the balloons. She was entering in! She was not Miss
+Theodosia who detested crowds; in the tight grip of the miracle, she was
+Miss Theodosia who thrilled and enjoyed.
+
+"Isn't it elegant? Oh, aren't you happy!" cried Evangeline.
+
+"Aren't I!" gallant Miss Theodosia responded. She caught Evangeline's
+sleeve. "What is that man shouting about--there, in front of that big
+tent?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, but it's somethin' splendid. I know it's somethin'
+splendid! I'll go 'n' see."
+
+"I'll go with you. Stefana, stay with the rest of the children. We'll be
+right back." Miss Theodosia laughed as she and Evangeline went, hand in
+hand. In a moment they were back for the rest. It was "somethin'
+splendid"--come! come!
+
+They drank pink lemonade and ate ice-cream cones. Elly Precious and
+Carruthers waved gay balloons. Evangeline chose a cane.
+
+"I need one. I'm so happy I tumble over! I never was so happy 'xcept
+when Elly Precious stopped havin' the measles. That was as splendid as
+this, but it wasn't as _splendid_ splendid. Miss Theodosia, don't you
+feel all beautiful and jiggy inside?"
+
+"All beautiful and jiggy!" nodded Miss Theodosia, wondering a little
+whether it was all circus or some pink lemonade.
+
+"I like the wholeness of it best," Stefana said, taking in the animated
+scene with an artist's eye.
+
+"I don't! I like the every little speckness of it," Evangeline chirped.
+"I like that 'normous big tent an' that tiny little one--I like that
+balloon man--I like that little darky baby--isn't he black as the ace of
+space, Miss Theodosia! Oh, I like every blade o'--sawdust!" Her laugh
+trilled out gayly.
+
+"But we haven't seen it yet--the show."
+
+"Miss Theodosia! You don't honest mean we're goin' in? Stefana, she
+does--she means! We're goin' in!" As of course they were. The best seats
+in the great tented arena were none too good for them. Stefana
+laboriously shut up Elly Precious' go-cart, and Miss Theodosia lifted
+Elly Precious in her arms. In the procession they sought those
+best-of-all seats. What followed, even Evangeline gazed upon in silence;
+there were no words in Evangeline's dictionary for what followed. She
+sat on the edge of the best-of-all seat and drank in riders and clowns
+and dizzy performing fairies--an intoxicating draught.
+
+"Miss Theodosia," in a tiny whisper.
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Ain't you glad you ain't dead? 'Cause you don't need to be." Which was
+Evangeline's way of complimenting Heaven. There was no need of dying to
+find out its marvels--not now. Miss Theodosia slipped one of the small
+hands into hers and squeezed it; squeezing established understanding.
+They knew--they understood.
+
+"Well, upon my word!" a deep voice exclaimed behind them. With one
+accord Miss Theodosia and her Flaggs wheeled about. The Tract
+Man--Shadow Man--Reformed Doctor stood there, smiling. He was eating
+popcorn from a paper bag. Transferring the bag to Evangeline, he held
+out his hands for the baby.
+
+"You here?" Miss Theodosia exclaimed stupidly.
+
+"Yes--are you?"
+
+Every one laughed. Laughing was so easy! Elly Precious from his lofty
+shoulder-post clapped small, joyous hands and crowed. In the ring a
+clown threw them kisses. A fairy in short, silvery skirts rode by on two
+horses. "Wait! Watch her--watch her!" Evangeline whispered hissingly.
+"She's goin' to jump through a hoop o' fire! Without burnin' up!"
+
+John Bradford leaned forward to Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Having a good time?" he whispered.
+
+"Grand! Are you?"
+
+"Hunkydory!" He might have been a boy, she a girl. These might have been
+little Flagg brothers--sisters.
+
+"We must have cones--ice-cream cones," he said.
+
+"We've had 'em," piped Evangeline.
+
+"We must have more cones, and cracker-jack."
+
+"We've had crackerjack."
+
+"We must have more crackerjack. Where is the Crackerjack Boy?"
+
+At the end of the show in the ring they took a vote and decided to stay
+to see it all over again. What did it matter if they had seen the tinsel
+fairy jump through her fiery hoop or the acrobats perform their wonders?
+They felt acquainted now. They were gazing, enchanted, at friends.
+
+"My clown's lookin' at me! I'm goin' to bow to him."
+
+"Mine's threw me a kiss!"
+
+Stefana, more refined in taste, had adopted a beauteous creature in gold
+and blue, and starry spangles. Her beauteous lady waved a scepter at her
+as she glided by.
+
+"She's got so many ruffles on! An' they're beau-ti-fully done up!"
+sighed Stefana in gentle envy of some unknown artist in starch.
+
+"Now what?" demanded the man of the party at length. "Anybody want to
+stay here any longer? Or shall we discover new territory?" He took
+Evangeline aside and questioned her.
+
+"Have you seen everything out there?" indicating the attractions without
+the big tent.
+
+"We've seen a nawful lot. We've had a nelegant time," Evangeline
+whispered back. Desire and loyalty to Miss Theodosia fought a duel in
+her small breast and the issue was yet doubtful.
+
+"Isn't there something left that you'd like to see?" The order was
+changed; here was man tempting woman. Desire won the duel with one
+mighty blow. Evangeline tiptoed up as near his ear as possible and
+breathed two words.
+
+John Bradford turned to the little crowd.
+
+"We'll go to see the Fat Lady," he said to Miss Theodosia; "I'll take
+the kiddies, while you sit down somewhere and rest.
+
+"Sit down somewhere? Haven't I been sitting down somewhere? Don't you
+suppose I want to see the Fat Lady, too?" laughed Miss Theodosia. Fat
+ladies appealed to her invitingly, in this remarkable mood of hers--Miss
+Theodosia's circus mood.
+
+"You're playing the game like a trump! I didn't dream you could
+'pretend' a circus was yours. Must be some harder than pretending
+babies--" John Bradford got no farther. She turned indignant eyes upon
+him.
+
+"'Game'--'pretend'--I'd have you know I'm having a nelegant time! You
+must be the Pretender."
+
+"Me? I'm having the time of my life! I am going to put a circus into my
+love story."
+
+"This circus?"
+
+"This identical one."
+
+"With me and the little Flaggs in it?"
+
+"You--and the little Flaggs."
+
+They had fallen behind the children, and a side eddy of the crowd had
+flowed between. The Fat Lady was at the further end of the grounds, but
+there was no hurry; she would remain just as fat a Fat Lady if they
+pleasantly dallied a little. Stefana had, with the deftness of
+genius-born skill, solved the puzzle of opening the folded-up go-cart,
+and the Man Person of the party was no longer burdened with Elly
+Precious.
+
+Suddenly into the pleasant dallying leaped Carruthers with terrified
+little face.
+
+"They're lost! We can't find 'em! I can't an' Stefana can't. They ain't
+anywhere! We were lookin' at a man with turkles you wind up, an' when we
+stopped lookin' they weren't there--not anywhere. They ain't anywhere!
+Not any--'
+
+"Stop him!" begged Miss Theodosia. "He'll keep right on anywhere-ing. We
+must find Stefana."
+
+"Stefana said--oh, I couldn't hear what Stefana said, but she pointed
+an' pointed, an' I came lickety. They're lost! They ain't anywhere!"
+
+Stefana appearing here, the story was repeated. Like that--Stefana
+snapped her fingers--they had disappeared.
+
+"I've hunted and hunted. Everybody's seen children with go-carts, but
+they weren't Evangeline 'n' Elly Precious."
+
+Miss Theodosia's own face was pale, but she achieved a light laugh.
+
+"No wonder you haven't found them yet! In this crowd. It takes
+time;--you tell them to be patient and we'll find the right go-cart."
+She appealed to the Man Person.
+
+"Sure, we'll find the right go-cart! Where do you think they could have
+vanished? Down a hole in the ground?"
+
+Miss Theodosia clapped her hands valiantly. "That's it! Evangeline found
+a hole and took Elly Precious down, to show him the White Rabbit and the
+Red Queen! Evangeline would love to be an Alice in Wonderland. Go and
+find the hole," to the Man Person. "I'll stay right in this spot with
+the children. See, in front of this ice-cream tent."
+
+"Good idea!--I'll bring them back with me unless you find them first."
+
+But they were not with him when he returned half an hour later. In spite
+of himself, he looked anxious.
+
+"Queer thing! What color dress did she have on? I've tried to remember."
+
+"Pink--oh, pink!" sobbed Stefana, "but it was most washed out. It had
+two tucks let down, an' it was limpy in the skirt, behind--the starch
+gave out." There were so many Evangelines, but it didn't seem as if
+there'd be another Evangeline limpy behind! "An' Elly Precious's lower
+teeth are through, and his shoes are buttoned inside, I remember now! We
+were in such a hurry--there wouldn't be another baby buttoned inside."
+
+After still further vain hunting, John Bradford sent the three home.
+
+"You may find Evangeline there, getting supper!" he said, "but I'll stay
+here on the chance you don't. I'll investigate every hole on the
+grounds! Don't anybody worry--now, mind! There's nothing to worry
+about."
+
+"Fat Lady!" Miss Theodosia suddenly exclaimed as one with inspiration.
+"We've never thought of her; that's where they've gone! Evangeline
+couldn't wait. She had some pennies."
+
+"I've investigated the Fat Lady--no good. They don't let go-carts in,
+and there weren't any outside. But, of course, I can go the whole
+figure, to make sure. I'll go all the whole figures. Can't you trust
+me?"
+
+"We can. Come, children. I'll coach you on Wonderland, so if Evangeline
+is there you'll know what she is seeing! Gryphons, Mock 'Turkles,' Mad
+Hatters--a circus within a circus! It's so much like Evangeline to find
+that White Rabbit hole!" Miss Theodosia clung determinedly to a cheerful
+view of the situation. But, secretly, she worried. As the time went on,
+she worried harder. Two babies--one wheeling the other! What was
+Evangeline but a baby?
+
+Miss Theodosia took the two little surviving Flaggs to her own home and
+plied them with goodies--many goodies. She unearthed from hiding-places
+candied ginger and guava jelly; she invented toys for the deaf little
+Flagg and occupations for Stefana. She found a dog-eared copy of
+"Alice," dear to her own childhood, and read to Stefana--anything to
+occupy the waiting. It was long waiting!
+
+It grew dark. Once Miss Theodosia heard heavy steps trying painstakingly
+to be light ones. She found the Man Person outside the door.
+
+"Nothing yet? You haven't any trace--" It was needless asking.
+
+"You don't think--"
+
+"Of course, I don't think! Nothing on earth could happen to those
+kiddies."
+
+"Automobiles--"
+
+"Aren't allowed on the grounds, and you couldn't have got Evangeline off
+the grounds with a tackle and falls. I know what I think."
+
+"Then tell it--mercy gracious!"
+
+"I think it's Evangeline that's happened. Mark my words! Now I'm going
+back again. I just came to--I suppose I thought I was coming to relieve
+your mind!" He laughed sorrily and softly.
+
+"Oh, go--yes, go! It's--it's long past Elly Precious' bedtime." He could
+hear soft sobbing as he went away. Miss Theodosia was mourning for her
+baby. The Man Person's throat tightened; he broke into a run.
+
+Stefana met Miss Theodosia at an inner door. She had her hat on and
+Carruthers by the hand.
+
+"I'm going home to put him to bed. I--I shan't look at the clothes
+basket. But if Elly Precious is dead, I'll put wh-white ribbons on the
+h-handles!" With a moan, Stefana threw herself into the kind arms of
+Elly Precious' friend who loved him, too!
+
+"Hush, dear! Elly Precious isn't dead, but I hope he is asleep.
+Evangeline, I know, will take care of him. Let's trust Evangeline."
+
+"Maybe she's dead, too!"
+
+"Stefana! I'm disappointed. I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+"I am!" sobbed Stefana, gathering herself together. Miss Theodosia
+watched her go quietly away, hand in hand with the little brother that
+was left. But Miss Theodosia was no longer brave. Sudden terrors seized
+upon her. She remembered how round and white Elly Precious was--how he
+showed the little teeth that had got through--how he had loved to watch
+Evangeline dance, through the window.
+
+"Theodosia Baxter, I'm disappointed! I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+As she stood in the moist darkness, a sound came to her--too soft for a
+man-sound. It grew a very little more distinct.
+
+"Miss Theodosia--sh! he's gettin' ready to go off. I want him to go off
+soon's I get him home--I don't want to 'xcite him. I jus' came to tell
+you--"
+
+"Evangeline! Have you got him there?"
+
+The softest of giggles. "Why, of course! He's too valuable to leave
+anywheres. Leave a Best Baby! That's the s'prise! He's a prize baby,
+Elly Precious is! I've got it in my pocket!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+"I've got to take him home an' bed him down!" Horsey little Evangeline!
+"Then I'll come back an' show it to you. Isn't it puffectly elegant that
+he took a prize! We've had the best time!" And in the darkness Miss
+Theodosia heard soft, retreating steps and the faintest creak of wheels.
+Left alone, she leaned for support on the porch pillar, overcome by the
+Evangelineness of Evangeline. And they had all had so far from the "best
+time"--they had suffered so!
+
+"Mercy gracious!" sighed Miss Theodosia weakly, but aloud.
+
+"What did I tell you?" The Man Person's voice! What kind of a ghostly
+night was this? "Didn't I say it was Evangeline that had happened, 'mark
+my words'? Well, wasn't it?"
+
+"Tell me instantly how she 'happened'! I'm all in the dark."
+
+"Same here. Can't see an inch before my nose. If we had a lamp--"
+
+"Didn't she tell you? Didn't she come home with you?"
+
+"No--no, I came home with her. Behind her--she didn't know. Wanted to
+let her do the whole thing alone. I confess I was curious."
+
+"Curious! After hunting hours and hours--"
+
+"'Curious--after--hunting--hours--and hours,'" he intoned. She could
+hear him getting ready to laugh. "The moment I caught sight of the
+little imp, I forgot I was tired. Whatever she's been up to, it's
+something interesting. May I wait and hear her tell about it?"
+
+"Of course you may! I should think you'd earned admittance." Miss
+Theodosia was sizzling gently with perfectly natural irritation. Now
+that her baby was safe, she had leisure to be irritated.
+
+"Come and rest in the easiest chair you can find. When I think--"
+
+"Don't think! Let's just have cups of tea and wait for the show to
+begin."
+
+"But why aren't you cross? I am."
+
+The man-voice in the dark was soothing.
+
+"Oh, no, you only think you are, dear lady. You are deceiving yourself.
+Crossness and--er--nerve-itis are two very different diseases (you note
+I term them both diseases). I speak as One Who Did Once Know."
+
+Miss Theodosia, on her way for cups of tea, paused in her dim doorway.
+
+"Diseases change so. In ten years--"
+
+"In ten years 'nerve-itis' has lost none of its pep--rather annexed
+more. It may have another name."
+
+"Nerve-itus Dance," murmured the voice in the doorway. "That's
+it--that's what I was having when you came. I don't think I am quite
+over the attack yet."
+
+"Three lumps of sugar dissolved in a cup of tea," prescribed the
+man-voice promptly. "Repeat the dose in five minutes. Never known to
+fail. As a preventive of--er--contagion, it is well for any also who
+have been exposed--"
+
+"I'll have it there in a minute. The kettle's boiling," called Miss
+Theodosia from interior regions. She came back presently with a tray lit
+by a tiny flare of candle-light.
+
+ "'How far that little candle throws his beams--
+ So shines a good deed in a naughty world'"
+
+quoted he. "The good deed is the good tea."
+
+"And the naughty world is Evangeline. Won't you have three lumps just
+this time, to make perfectly sure you don't contract my Nerve-itus
+Dance?"
+
+"Safety first," he laughed. "Four lumps. This is our first tea-party at
+'Candle-lighting Time,' isn't it?"
+
+Now Miss Theodosia laughed. It was easy to laugh with Elly Precious
+being bedded down instead of lost.
+
+"How you do quote to-night!" she said. "That's the third time, counting
+'Safety First,' in the last five minutes."
+
+"Pardon," he craved. "It's because I feel happy. I'm likely to quote again
+at any minute."
+
+"Well, quote the Scriptures then to Evangeline when she comes."
+
+"Hark!"
+
+She was coming now. They could hear the light, hurrying steps. Was
+Evangeline never tired? Did neither parades nor circuses--mysterious
+wanderings nor mysterious triumphs--affect her?
+
+"The show is about to begin," murmured Miss Theodosia.
+
+It began immediately. Evangeline came bursting in upon them, waving a
+blue ribbon. She was a fresh and radiant Evangeline.
+
+"Stefana says I can't stay only a minute. Stefana's kind o' mad, but she
+didn't dass to be, out loud, for fear we'd 'xcite Elly Precious. He's
+asleep. I was so proud of his arms an' legs when I undressed 'em!
+They're very high-percented arms 'n' legs. Mercy gracious, yes! Don't
+you see this ribbon's blue--blue--blue! That's because he's a Best Baby,
+an' the prize was five dollars, an' they gave him a dollar 'special,'
+too, that we're goin' to put in the bank--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up her hand.
+
+"Begin at the beginning," she commanded. "Where have you been all this
+time? What on earth have you been doing?"
+
+"Showin' Elly Precious," flashed back Evangeline brightly. "You've heard
+o' Poultry Shows? Well, this wasn't. This was a Baby Show. We never
+noticed it was advertised in the p'rade at all--a man with a sandwich
+on. A lady told me. She said the circus folks were pretty bright,
+because all o' the world loved babies an' they knew 'twould make a
+beautiful side show. She said they knew it would draw, an' it did. It
+drew me an' Elly Precious! The circus folks offered prizes. They weighed
+an' measured 'em to see which was a Best Baby, an' Elly Precious was!
+You better be proud that you--that you measled a Best Baby!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's glance met the Man Person's. The show was turning out
+well.
+
+"I've got to go back, or Stefana--oh, mercy gracious me, it was worth
+folks bein' mad! There was a nurse there an' a lovely lady an' a doctor.
+They let me stay Elly Precious's nap out, because it isn't a sleep
+go-cart. He has to sit up straight in it. The lady said to lie him down
+there an' let him sleep. But we didn't expect he'd sleep so long--the
+lady went away, but I stayed. I wasn't goin' to wake a Best Baby up out
+o' a sound sleep! It made us a little late gettin' home."
+
+"Yes, go on," murmured the Man Person feelingly.
+
+"Why, that's as far as there is to go. Then we came home."
+
+"Why didn't you go back and tell Stefana or Miss Theodosia? Where was
+your Baby Show, anyway?"
+
+"In a tent. I happened to get a peek in an' saw folks with babies, an' I
+was a folks with one, so I just went in. That's all. I was goin' to tell
+Stefana, but he cried an' I couldn't leave him. He wouldn't have took a
+prize, cryin'. I had to keep dancin' to him--mercy gracious! But it was
+worth it. Then when he'd got all measured an' weighed,--it's pretty
+wearin' work,--he went to sleep. I told you that. I had to wait for him
+to wake up." For the first time Evangeline was on the defensive; she
+read the faint disapproval in Miss Theodosia's face.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I never s'posed you'd go an' worry! I thought--I
+thought you'd jus' be pur-roud." Actually, Evangeline was crying now.
+Miss Theodosia's disapproval vanished instantly. With a sweep of her
+arms, she gathered a forgiven Evangeline in. The Man Person stood
+outside the little zone of feminine emotion, but he had his own brand.
+
+"We _are_ pur-roud," Miss Theodosia crooned over the subdued little
+figure. "It's perfectly splendid about the blue ribbon and the prize!"
+
+"An' the special."
+
+"An' the special. Think of what his mother will say! But I knew he was
+the Best Baby all the time; it was written in between every little
+measle!" And saving laughter righted the situation; Evangeline bounded
+back to her usual spirits. "Now," Miss Theodosia said, "I'll get you
+some preserved ginger and shoo you home! You mustn't stay another
+minute, or Stefana will surely be over here with a policeman."
+
+"Stefana's proud, too--she needn't pretend! I saw her kissin' Elly
+Precious's knee. But she'll scold; she thinks it's her duty. Mercy
+gracious, when Aunt Sarah knits an' Mother's back, I hope Stefana'll
+grow down again."
+
+The Man Person poised his teacup above the saucer, arrested by this new
+puzzle.
+
+"Er--grow how?"
+
+"Down. She's so terrible grown-up now. It's been pretty wearin' on my
+nerves. We use' to play dolls together. We don't ever now. She's too
+starched up."
+
+"Poor Stefana with her starch!" murmured Miss Theodosia. The poor little
+martyr to starch! It was to be hoped, indeed, that when Aunt Sarah knit,
+Stefana could grow down again and play dolls.
+
+"Do you know her mother--Evangeline's?" Miss Theodosia asked, after the
+child had gone. "Is Evangeline like her;--is that where she gets her
+Evangelineness?"
+
+"No, she must get it from the father. The mother is exactly like
+Stefana, or may be I've got it the wrong end to. I never saw the father;
+he died a few weeks before the baby was born."
+
+"Well, the father must have been remarkable; somebody is responsible for
+Evangeline. I love that child next to--my baby. Supposing--I think of it
+sometimes--supposing I had staid in Rome or Paris or Farthest
+Anyplace--not come home at all, you know,--then I should have missed it
+all. I should never have known those children."
+
+"Nor me," he ventured. She did not appear to hear, but went on musingly:
+
+"Something sent me home--I needed those children."
+
+"And me!"
+
+"I was going on a fast train--a through express--straight to Lonesome
+Land!"
+
+She laughed softly as if she were alone. "If Evangeline hadn't Flagged
+my train--it was Evangeline! She switched me off on another track."
+Miss Theodosia's tender eyes lifted and met the Man Person's with a
+little start of recognition as if saying: "Why, are you here!" But she
+met those other eyes staunchly. "I'm glad I stopped off at this Flagg
+station. I like it here."
+
+For a little the big room, bright with lamplight, was so still that the
+clock ticked impertinently. Miss Theodosia's tea cooled in its cup, and
+John Bradford had long ago forgotten his. The big hands on the
+chair-arms gripped them unconsciously. Then, suddenly, the man got to
+his feet and walked to the far end of the room. On his return he stopped
+before Miss Theodosia, looking down.
+
+"I love you," John Bradford said. The impertinent clock kept on, but
+Miss Theodosia could not hear it now for the ticking of her heart. Was
+she a frightened girl that she could not lift her eyes?
+
+"I was on that express, too--bound for that same place. I thank the Lord
+I got off here. I shall always thank Him, whether you can love me or
+not. I shall always love you. If you thought, sometime--I can wait--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's eyes lifted. But she shook her head.
+
+"I'm afraid not--sometime."
+
+He still stood, looking down. Very gently he touched her hair; she could
+hear the long breath he drew.
+
+"I was afraid so. It was too much to ask. But I had to take my chance.
+Don't be distressed, dear. I am happy, loving you. You can't deny me
+that! I've loved you ever since I found you mending my shirt. I have had
+a beautiful time loving you, and it will keep right on. But I was crazy,
+wasn't I, to think--of course you 'couldn't sometime.'"
+
+"Because I love you now," she said steadily. "I have--I have just found
+it out!"
+
+The gently stroking hand ceased its work. John Bradford caught the sweet
+face between his great palms and turned it upward to his.
+
+"Dear!" he cried. He was a boy, she a girl. Love has no age. It swept
+over them, a young sweet tide. This man--this woman. There was no one
+else in the world then.
+
+"Dear!" she whispered, matching her love-word to his, "and I never knew
+till a minute ago!"
+
+"I always knew. The shirt had no part in it! I have loved you since the
+world began and the morning stars sang! You were made for me to love;
+all these years I have been waiting for you, dear."
+
+"All these years!" she repeated a little sadly--"that reminds us. But we
+are not old! I won't be--I won't have you be! What is time, anyway?"
+
+"Nothing!" He blew it away in a whiff of scorn. "What is anything but
+that I love you and you love me? We are just born now--this is our
+birthday! May I kiss you on your birthday, dear? Will you kiss me on
+mine?"
+
+The clock must have stopped in very astonishment at this scandal of
+grown love playing young love. At any rate, there was only the sound of
+the young love in the room. The room sang with the beautiful sound of
+it.
+
+It seemed a very long time afterward that John Bradford asked his
+man-question: "When?"
+
+"When your book is written--the love story. Not till then."
+
+"It's getting on beautifully!" he pleaded. "It never will be done.
+There's going to be no end to the chapters."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Where are you now?"
+
+"The heroine has just said yes. The hero has just kissed her--he is just
+going to kiss her ag--"
+
+"Mercy--mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks flooded pink. She
+held up a staying hand.
+
+"Wait--till I get--get used to being a heroine! Am I? Was _that_ the
+love story?"
+
+"That was the love story. I have been working on it every day. Some days
+I had set-backs--when the heroine flung things in my face about reformed
+doctors, and times like that."
+
+"She took them back again, those things. She was a kind sort of a
+heroine."
+
+"She was a dear. He wanted to kiss her when she took them back, those
+things. I had all _I_ could do to keep him from it. He was a tough sort
+of a hero to work with. I had my hands full."
+
+"Did you love--did the hero love the heroine when they sat drinking cups
+of tea?"
+
+"A little harder every cup."
+
+"When they nursed the measles?"
+
+"A little more every measle."
+
+"When they went to the circus?" She drew a long, happy breath. "I like
+to have been that heroine! Dear, is it right to be as happy as this? For
+old folks, I mean--near-olds? Oughtn't we to knock on wood? Oh, I've
+just thought of Evangeline. What will Evangeline say?"
+
+"Something Evangelical," he laughed. "I hope I'll be there."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Evangeline had excitements of her own. As though prizes for Best Babies
+were not enough, a new excitement began the very next day. Two
+excitements--one on the lovely heels of the other. Evangeline, gasping
+in the joyous throes of the first-comer, raced over to Miss Theodosia,
+as she had learned to race with troubles as well as joys. All the way
+she emitted sounds approximating steam-whistles. The very nature of the
+news she was carrying suggested the sounds she made carrying it.
+
+"The elegantest thing has happened--I mean's goin' to!" She could not
+wait to get quite there, but sent her news ahead of her through the
+transmitting medium of air. Miss Theodosia, on her porch, sat dreaming
+her love's young dream--young, not old; not old!
+
+"The elegant elegantest! He's goin' to be cured! He won't be deaf o'
+hearin' any more! I mean he thinks he won't--I mean _he_--"
+
+"Sit down on the step, dear. Count ten, then start again."
+
+"Onetwothreefour--oh, I can't wait to get to ten! If your little brother
+had always been deaf o' hearin' an' a doctor looked into him with a
+spy-glass an' said I think this boy can be cured, I'm goin' to take him
+to a hospital an' have him operated when his mother is willin' if she
+gets home--I mean if she gets home when she's willin'--oh, I mean--"
+
+"Yes, dear. Sit still. I understand, and I think she will be willing
+when she gets home, don't you? Oh, Evangeline, won't we all be happy to
+have Carruthers cured of his poor little deafness o' hearing! I know the
+doctor, and he knows ears! We'll trust him, Evangeline. He will do
+everything in the world there is to be done. And we'll stay at home and
+pray."
+
+"Pray!" cried Evangeline. Her little thin face lifted to the blue
+heavens. "I've woke up right slap in the middle o' nights an' prayed:
+'Oh, Lord, that made a little children an' forgot his ears, do somethin'
+now--don't you think you'd ought to, O Lord? It don't seem fair not to.
+He ain't ever heard Elly Precious crow, nor laugh--think o' that, dear
+Lord.'" The shrill voice dropped suddenly. "But He never." Evangeline
+sighed.
+
+"Till now, dear--we hope He will now. He and the doctor who knows ears.
+I thought you were so pleased and that you were--"
+
+"Oh, yes'm, oh, I am! It was just--I was thinkin' how lovely Elly
+Precious's laugh sounds an' Carruthers not ever hearin' it. So far, I
+mean." Evangeline caught her courage again in both hands. "But he'll
+laugh 'nough more times when he can hear--I mean when Carruthers can.
+Won't it be puffectly elegant!"
+
+It was later in the same day when the second excitement struck the
+little House of Flaggs. Evangeline raced again across the separating
+green grass to Miss Theodosia. This time she went at reduced speed
+because she had Elly Precious over her shoulder. Miss Theodosia saw them
+coming and smiled.
+
+"More news! I know it is puffectly elegant by Evangeline's face. Well,
+Evangeline?"
+
+"Mercy gracious! Take him before I spill him! I'm so happy I joggle.
+She's knittin' an' she's comin' home! I mean knittin' _enough_. She said
+'my--dear--children--I--expect--to--be--home--to-morrow
+--Aunt--Sarah--is--better--an'--I--can't
+wait--to--see--you--your--mother--' Mercy gracious, when Stefana got to
+your mother, seemed as if I'd burst! We hollered it to Carruthers, an'
+he burst! An' Elly Precious knows she's comin', I know he knows. Tickle
+him an' see how pleased he is!" Without comma or semicolon, to say
+nothing of periods, Evangeline panted on. Out of breath at last, her
+voice sat down an instant, as it were, to rest. It was up again in a
+moment.
+
+"To-morrow is most to-day! It'll be to-day to-morrow! Oh, mercy gracious
+me! We're goin' to sweep under everything an' behind--every las' thing,
+under 'n' behind. She won't find a grain o' dust. An' Stefana's makin'
+starch."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" softly ejaculated Miss Theodosia.
+
+"I mean to eat in the dessert--corn-starch. We've begun to skim Elly
+Precious's bottles. You can eat thin bottles, can't you, darlin' dear,
+when Mother's comin' home? Corn-starch has to have cream on it--when
+Mother's comin' home!" She laughed joyously. All past and creamless
+corn-starches were a joke. Laughing at them was easy at this happy
+moment.
+
+"Isn't it splendid Aunt Sarah went to knittin'? Mercy gracious, I hope
+she won't--won't drop a stitch for Mother to have to stay an' pick up!"
+Evangeline's laugh trilled out once more.
+
+"Do you suppose you'd dass to cut Elly Precious's hair, Miss Theodosia,
+while I danced like everything an' made faces? Dutchy, you know, in the
+back o' his neck--he's straggly now. I'd make awful faces--"
+
+"I wouldn't 'dass,' dear," smiled Miss Theodosia. "I never could cut
+fast enough and you never could dance hard enough--we'd hurt him."
+
+"Well, she'll look at the front o' him first--never mind. We're goin' to
+put on that darlin' little ni'gown you made, for a dress--belt it in,
+you know, with a ribbon off the handle o' the clo'es-basket; Stefana's
+ironed it out. An' we're goin' to pin on his blue ribbon prize."
+
+John Bradford came that evening to sit on the porch in the soft warmth
+that autumn had borrowed from summers-to-come, with promissory note to
+pay it back when lovers were through with it. Miss Theodosia met him
+with the news.
+
+"Mustn't it be beautiful to be welcomed home like that, dear? If you
+could have seen Evangeline's little shiny face! And the way Elly
+Precious laughed--when I tickled him! And, oh, John--Do you hear me
+call you John? I thought it would be hard!"
+
+"'And, oh, John--'" he prompted, putting it yet further off by a
+kiss-length.
+
+"Oh, John, I know about Carruthers. You're going to take him away to
+cure him."
+
+"To try to cure him," John Bradford said gravely.
+
+"You'll do it, dear--you and the Lord! Evangeline and I are trusting.
+Hark, she is coming! No one else sounds like that!"
+
+"No one else gallops--canters--breaks speed limits!" he laughed. "Now
+what? More news?"
+
+The same news over again, but Evangeline saw that which momentarily
+banished it from her mind. She saw John Bradford standing behind Miss
+Theodosia's chair; she saw him stoop over it.
+
+"Mercy gracious, he kissed her!" gasped Evangeline. Something told her
+to turn and gallop back, but she could not stop in time. She was already
+at the foot of the steps. Awful embarrassment seized her--seized
+Evangeline! In the faint, reflected lamplight from within the house she
+could see the two above her looking down. Mercy gracious!
+
+"Sit down, Evangeline."
+
+"I'm s-sittin'--I _think_ I'm sittin' down." Up-standings and
+down-sittings were confused in the general dizziness of things. Perhaps
+she was standing up.
+
+"You're not sick, are you, Evangeline? You're not saying anything."
+
+Then Evangeline said something.
+
+"I--I saw him--doin' it, I mean. Mercy gracious, _what'll I do_?" For
+some inherited delicacy of instinct made of her a dreadful intruder; she
+saw herself in the shameful act. Instinctively Evangeline knew she was
+on sacred ground.
+
+"I couldn't stop, I was goin' so fast. It's too late not to see him
+doin' it; I don't know what to do."
+
+With swift, light steps Miss Theodosia was down beside her. John
+Bradford with one step was there. Evangeline looked shamefacedly up into
+their two kind faces.
+
+"I'm sorry," she whispered. For answer, John Bradford took one of Miss
+Theodosia's hands and laid it on hers. He held out one of his own.
+
+"May I have this lady to be my wedded wife, Evangeline? Will you give
+her to me?" His big voice was very tender. Evangeline looked into his
+shining eyes. The mystery of love swept through her small, sweet soul.
+She shut her eyes as if from some light too bright for them. If she were
+alone, she would say her prayers. But the tender voice was going on.
+
+"May I have her, Evangeline--will you put her hand in mine? She is very
+dear, indeed, to me." She could feel Miss Theodosia's soft hand quiver
+against her own hard little palm. Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender,
+too.
+
+Then, suddenly, inspiration came to her. She laid the soft hand in the
+big hand and looked up, smiling into John Bradford's face.
+
+"I'm willin'," she said, "if you'll honor an' obey."
+
+It was as if a silken gown enfolded Evangeline's straight little
+shoulders and they heard her say: "I pronounce thee." The strange little
+ceremony left them hushed.
+
+No one spoke again for a little space. Somewhere sleepy birds twittered,
+disturbed by rustling leaves or stealthy marauders. Somewhere a clock
+intoned distantly. A train far away rushed through the night, perhaps to
+some Lonesome Land, but they were not on it. Then John Bradford broke
+the spell. He leaned down and kissed Evangeline.
+
+A little laugh bubbled up to him. "You must've made a mistake. I'm the
+wrong one--mercy gracious!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings, by
+Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 8865.txt or 8865.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+ http://www.gutenberg.org/8/8/6/8865/
+
+Produced by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+ www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+ the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+ you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
+ owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+ has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+ Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
+ must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+ prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+ returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+ sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+ address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+ the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+ you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+ does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+ License. You must require such a user to return or
+ destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+ and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+ Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+ money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+ electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+ of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+ distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809
+North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email
+contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the
+Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+ Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+ Chief Executive and Director
+ gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+ www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/8865.zip b/8865.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8320c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/8865.zip
Binary files differ
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a711c2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #8865 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8865)
diff --git a/old/7msth10.txt b/old/7msth10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5597549
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/7msth10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4222 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+by Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+Release Date: September, 2005 [EBook #8865]
+[This file was first posted on August 16, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+BY
+
+ANNIE HAMILTON DONNELL
+
+WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
+
+WILLIAM VAN DRESSER
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of
+Stefana's patient endeavors. FRONTISPIECE.]
+
+
+
+To MY HUSBAND
+
+WHO COULD WRITE SO MUCH
+
+BETTER A BOOK AND
+
+DEDICATE IT TO
+
+ME!
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's patient
+endeavors.
+
+"We've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly"
+
+"If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into a story like
+that"
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the window
+
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"_Well!"_
+
+The last utterance was Miss Theodosia Baxter's. She was a woman of few
+words at all times where few sufficed. One sufficed now. The child on
+her front porch, with a still childlier child on the small area of her
+knees, was not a creature of few words, but now extreme surprise limited
+speech. She was stricken with brevity,--stricken is the word--to match
+Miss Theodosia's.
+
+Downward, upward, each gazed into the other's surprised face. The
+childlier child, jouncing pleasantly back and forth, viewed them both
+impartially.
+
+It was the child who regarded the situation, after a moment of mental
+adjustment, as humorous. She giggled softly.
+
+"Mercy gracious! How you surprised me' 'n' Elly Precious, an' me 'n'
+Elly Precious surprised you! I don't know which was the whichest! We
+came over to be shady just once more. We didn't s'pose you would come
+home till to-morrow, did we, Elly Precious?"
+
+"I came last night," Miss Theodosia replied with crispness. She stood in
+her doorway, apparently waiting for something which--apparently--was not
+to happen. The child and Elly Precious sat on in seeming calm.
+
+"Yes'm. Of course if you hadn't come, you wouldn't be standin' there
+lookin' at Elly Precious--isn't he a darlin' dear? Wouldn't you like to
+look at his toes?"
+
+It was Miss Theodosia Baxter's turn to say "Mercy gracious!" but she did
+not say it aloud. It was her turn, too, to see a bit of humor in the
+situation on her front porch.
+
+"Not--just now," she said rather hastily. She could not remember ever to
+have seen a baby's toes. "I've no doubt they are--are excellent toes."
+The word did not satisfy her, but the suitable adjective was not at
+hand.
+
+"Mercy gracious! That's a funny way to talk about toes! Elly Precious's
+are pink as anything--an' six--yes'm! I've made consid'able money out of
+his toes. Yes," with rising pride at the sight of Miss Theodosia's
+surprise, "'leven cents, so far. I only charged Lelia Fling a cent for
+two looks, because Lelia's baby's dead. I've got three cents out o' her;
+she says five of Elly Precious's remind her of her baby's toes. Isn't it
+funny you can't make boys pay to look at babies' toes, even when they's
+such a lot? Only just girls. Stefana says it's because girls are
+ungrown-up mothers. Mercy gracious! speakin' of Stefana an' mothers,
+reminds me--"
+
+The shrill little voice stopped with a suddenness that made the woman in
+the door fear for Elly Precious; it seemed that he must be jolted from
+his narrow perch.
+
+Miss Theodosia had wandered up and down the world for three years in be
+search of something to interest her, only to come home and find it here
+upon the upper step of her own front porch. She stepped from the doorway
+and sat down in one of the wicker rockers. She had plenty of time to be
+interested; there was really no haste for unpacking and settling back
+into her little country rut.
+
+"What about 'Stefana and mothers'?" she prodded gently. A cloud had
+settled on the child's vivid little face and threatened to overshade the
+childlier child, as well. "I suppose 'Stefana' is a Spanish person,
+isn't she?" The name had a definitely foreign sound.
+
+"Oh, no'm--just a United States. We're all United States. Mother named
+her; we've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly. Mother hated to
+call him Elihu, but there was Grandfather gettin' older an' older all
+the time, an' she dassen't wait till the next one. She put it off an'
+off with the other boys, Carruthers an' Gilpatrick--he's dead. She just
+couldn't name any of 'em Elihu, till Grandfather scared her, gettin' so
+old. She was afraid there wouldn't be time, an' there wasn't any to
+spare. Grandfather's dead now--she's thankful enough she didn't wait any
+longer. He was so pleased. He said be could depart this life easier,
+leavin' an Elihu Flagg behind him. An', anyway, Mother says Elly can
+call himself his middle name, if he'd ruther, when he's twenty-one--his
+middle name's Launcelot."
+
+Elihu Launcelot, at this juncture, toppled over against the little flat
+breast of his nurse, asleep--or in a swoon; Miss Theodosia had her
+fears. There seemed sufficient swooning cause.
+
+"Stefana," she prompted again, her interest advancing at a rapid pace,
+"and mothers--"
+
+"Stefana's our oldest. She's goin' to run us while Mother's away. She's
+got a job before her! All I can do is 'tend Elly Precious--we're all
+boys, but us. But, of course, runnin' the family isn't the real
+trouble--not what made Mother cry."
+
+Miss Theodosia sat forward in her chair.
+
+"What made Mother cry?" she asked. The child shifted her heavy burden
+the better to turn her head. She regarded the beautiful white lady
+gloomily.
+
+"You," she stated briefly.
+
+This time Miss Theodosia said it aloud and with a surprising ease, as if
+of long custom--"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean you're to blame; you can't help Aunt Sarah tumblin'
+down the cellar stairs an' Mother not bein' able to do you up."
+
+"Do me--up?"
+
+"Yes'm--white-wash you. Mother was sure you'd let her, an' we were goin'
+to send Carruthers to a deaf 'n' dumb school after you'd wore white
+clo'es enough. He isn't dumb, but he's deaf. He can't hear Elly Precious
+laugh--only yell. Mother heard that you always wore white dresses an'
+she most hugged herself--she hugged us. She said you'd prob'ly find out
+what a good white-washer she was an' let her white-wash you. But, now,
+Aunt Sarah's went an' fell down cellar."
+
+"Whitewash--whitewash?" queried Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Yes'm, you didn't think Mother was a washwoman, did you? Of course she
+could, but it doesn't pay's well. She only whitewashes--white clo'es,
+you know, dresses an' shirtwaists. She says it's her talent that the
+Lord's gave her, an' she's goin' to make it gain ten talents for
+Carruthers. But Aunt Sarah--"
+
+"Never mind Aunt Sarah. Unless--do you mean your mother has had to go
+away from home?"
+
+"Yes'm, to see to Aunt Sarah. They were twins when they were babies.
+Mother cried, because she said of course you'd have to be done up while
+she was gone, an' so she'd lost you. She said you'd been her bacon light
+ever since she heard you was comin' home an' wore so many white clo'es."
+
+The garrulous little voice might have run on indefinitely but for the
+abrupt appearance, here, of a slender girl in an all-enwrapping gingham
+apron. She came hurrying up Miss Theodosia's front walk.
+
+"Well, Evangeline Flagg, I hope you're blushing crimson scarlet
+red--helping yourself to folks's doorsteps that's got back from Europe!
+I hope--" but the newcomer got no further, for, quite suddenly, she
+found herself blushing crimson scarlet red, in the grip of a
+disconcerting thought.
+
+"I suppose it's just as bad to help yourself to doorsteps when folks
+aren't here as when they are," she said slowly, "but you mustn't blame
+Mother. She'd never've allowed Evangeline and Elly, if we'd had a single
+sol-i-ta-ry tree. Or been on the shady side. Or had a porch. Elly's been
+pindly, and Mother felt obliged to save his life. It's been terribly
+hot. Here, Evangeline Flagg, you give Elly here, an' you run home an'
+keep the soup-kettle from burning on. Don't you wait until it smells!
+I've got an errand to do here."
+
+The child, Evangeline, relinquished her burden and turned slowly away.
+But she halted at the foot of the steps.
+
+"This is Stefana," she introduced politely. "Stefana, you ain't _goin'
+to_? You look 'xactly as if you was. Mercy gracious!"
+
+[Illustration: "We've all got beautiful names except poor Elly."]
+
+"Yes," Stefana returned gravely, "I am. Now, you go. Remember the soup!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's interested gaze left the retreating little figure and
+came back to Stefana and Elly Precious. She was pleasantly aware of her
+own immaculate daintiness in her crisp white dress. Only Theodosia
+Baxter would have dreamed of arraying herself in white to unpack and
+settle. Her friends declared she made a fetich of her white raiment; it
+was a well-known fact among them that she was extremely "fussy" about
+its laundering.
+
+"One, two, three," counted the slender girl, over the baby's bald little
+head, "only three tucks, an' the lace not terribly full on the edges.
+I'm thankful there aren't any ruffles, but, there, I suppose there are
+on some o' the others, aren't there? I'll have to manage the ruffles. I
+mean, if--oh, I mean, won't you please let me do you up? Just till Aunt
+Sarah's bone knits--so to save you for Mother? I'll try so hard! If I
+don't, Charlotte Lovell will--she's the only other one. She's a
+beautiful washer and ironer, but none of her children are deaf, and she
+hasn't any, anyway. I didn't dare to come over and ask you, but I kept
+thinking of poor Mother and how she's been 'lotting on earning all that
+money. There, I've asked you--please don't answer till I've counted ten.
+When we were little, Mother always said for us to; it was safer. One,
+two, three--" she counted rapidly, then swung about facing Miss
+Theodosia. "You can say 'no,' now," she said, with a difficult little
+smile.
+
+Miss Theodosia had been, in a way, counting ten herself. She had had
+time to remember her very strict injunctions to those to whom she
+entrusted her beloved white gowns--to pull out the lace with careful
+fingers, not to iron it; to iron embroidered portions over many
+thicknesses of flannel, and never, never, never on the right side; to
+starch the dresses just enough and not too much. All these thoughts
+flashed through her mind while Stefana counted ten. But it was without
+accompaniment of injunctions that Miss Theodosia answered on that
+wistful little stroke of ten. In her soul she felt the futility of
+injunctions.
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Theodosia.
+
+Stefana whirled, at the risk of Elihu Launcelot.
+
+"Oh--oh, what? You mean I can do you up, honest? Starch you, and iron
+you, too--of course, I could wash you. Oh, if I could drop Elly Precious
+I'd get right up and dance!"
+
+"Give Elly Precious to me, and go ahead, my dear," said the White Lady
+with a smile.
+
+But Stefana shook her head. She was covertly studying the white dress
+once more. It was very white--she could detect no promising spots or
+creases, and she drew a sigh even in the midst of her rejoicing. If a
+person only sat on porches, in chairs, how often did white dresses need
+doing up? Miss Theodosia interpreted the sigh and look.
+
+"Oh, I've three of them rolled up in my trunk; aren't three enough to
+begin on? And shirtwaists--I'm sure I don't know how many of those. I'll
+go and get them now."
+
+In the hall she stopped at the mirror, jibing at the image confronting
+her. "You've done it this time, Theodosia Baxter! When you can't bear a
+wrinkle! But, there, don't look so scared--daughters inherit their
+mothers' talents, plenty of times. And you need only try it once, of
+course."
+
+After Stefana had gone away, doubly laden with clothes and bulky baby,
+Miss Theodosia remained on her porch. She found herself leaning over and
+parting her porch-vines, to get a glimpse of the little house next door.
+She had always loathed that little house with its barefaced poverties
+and uglinesses, and it had been a great relief to her to have it stand
+vacant in past years. She had left it vacant when she started upon her
+last globe-trotting. Now here it was teeming with life, and here she was
+aiding and abetting it! What new manner of Theodosia Baxter was this?
+
+"You'd better get up and globe-trot again, Woman, and not unpack," she
+uttered, with a lone woman's habit of talking to herself. "You were
+never made to live in a house like other people--to sit on porches and
+rock. And certainly, Theodosia Baxter, you were never made to live next
+to that little dry-goods box. It will turn you gray, poor thing." She
+felt a gentle pity for herself, then gentle wrath seized her. Why had
+she come home, anyway? Already she was lonely and restless. Why--could
+anybody tell her why--had she weakly yielded to two small girls? Her
+dear-beloved white dresses! And she could not go back on her
+promise--not on a Baxter promise! There was, indeed, the release of
+going away again, back to her globe-trotting--
+
+"I might write to Cornelia Dunlap," Miss Theodosia thought. "Maybe she
+is sorry she came home, too."
+
+Cornelia Dunlap had been her recent comrade of the road. They had
+traveled to many far places together. What would Cornelia say to that
+little conference of three--and a baby--on the front porch?
+
+"My dear," wrote Miss Theodosia, "you will think I have been swapped in
+my cradle since I left you! 'That is no fellow tramp of mine,' you will
+say, 'That woman being victimized by children in knee-high dresses!
+Theodosia Baxter nothing!'"--for Cornelia Dunlap in moments of surprise
+resorted sometimes to slang, which she claimed was a sturdy vehicle of
+speech. "You will set down your teacup hard," wrote on Miss
+Theodosia,--"I know you are drinking tea!--when I tell you the little
+story of the Whitewashing of Theodosia Baxter. But shall I tell it? Why
+expose Theodosia Baxter's weaknesses when hitherto she has posed as
+strong? Soberly, Cornelia, I am as much surprised at myself as you will
+be (oh, I shall tell it!). Do you remember your Mother Goose? The little
+astonished old lady who took a nap beside the road and woke to find her
+petticoats cut off at her knees? 'Oh, lawk-a-daisy me, can this be I!'
+cried she. I'm not sure those were just her words, but they will do. Oh,
+lawk-a-daisy me, can this be Theodosia Baxter! The Astonished Little Old
+Lady, if I remember my Mother Goose, resorted to the simple expedient of
+going home and letting her little dog decide if she were she. But I have
+no little dog.
+
+"They were so earnest to whitewash me, Cornelia! The whole scheme was
+such a plucky little one and Baxters, from the dawn of creation, have
+admired pluck. The lively, chatterbox-one was 'Evangeline' and the quiet
+one who should have been an Evangeline was what the other one ought to
+have been,--a 'Stefana,' suggestive of flashing, dark eyes under a lace
+mantilla, with ways to match the eyes. So does fate play her little
+jokes. The baby--but what do I know of babies or you know of babies? He
+had six toes and I might have seen them for nothing; so do we miss our
+opportunities. He was named for his grandfather just in time, but the
+name, my dear, the name! Elihu. Are you listening? _Elihu_! But they
+offered him the assuaging 'sop' of 'Launcelot' for a middle name, and
+what could a baby do? Babies are the little scapegoats of mistaken
+loyalties."
+
+Miss Theodosia was having a good time. Her sober mood had passed. She
+wrote on enjoyingly, describing the whole little episode to Cornelia
+Dunlap. The freshening of it in her memory was pleasant. Again she felt
+the tug of those eager little pleadings. She kept remembering other
+things about little Elihu Launcelot besides his name and his toes. She
+remembered how gravely he had looked at her, how tiny and soft his hands
+were.
+
+"That little box of a house next to mine, Cornelia,--I told you about
+it. Well, it's as full now as it has been empty, and a little fuller.
+Dear knows how many it holds! But it's sociable seeing the smoke come
+out of the chimney; _it's friendly_."
+
+She had not thought of it as sociable and friendly before. The thought
+seemed just to have come to her. She was quite cheerful-minded when she
+finished her letter to Cornelia Dunlap and neatly folded it. If she had
+but known, she was sorry for Cornelia who was not next door to a
+friendly little box.
+
+She made tea and sipped it, made golden toast and opened a
+foreign-looking box of some sort of jelly. While she ate slowly, she
+slowly made plans. No, she would not have a stay-all-the-time maid--yes,
+she would move her things into the room facing the next-door house.
+Until she got tired of watching the sociable thread of smoke, anyway.
+
+It had not occurred yet to Theodosia Baxter that she had not said a word
+to Cornelia Dunlap about going on their travels again. When it did
+occur, she suddenly laughed out aloud, but softly.
+
+"I forgot what I began that letter _for_! I never mentioned going away
+again! And now--I'm glad. Who wants to go off? 'East, west, hame's
+best.' Even a hame next door to a little dry-goods box."
+
+Of course there was the promise to let those funny kiddies whitewash
+her--
+
+"It's a Baxter promise; don't try to get out of it, Theodosia Baxter,"
+she said.
+
+The next noon she saw her dresses dangling from the neighboring
+clothesline. They were not successfully dangled; Miss Theodosia liked to
+see them hung with symmetry, all alike in a seemly row. The shirtwaists
+dangled also in unseemly attitudes. One hung by a single sleeve. But
+that was not all--a certain faint suggestion of something worse than
+lack of symmetry persisted in Miss Theodosia's mind. They had been
+especially travel-stained, soiled; they had still an air of soil and
+travel-stain. They didn't look clean!
+
+Miss Theodosia groaned. "It may be blueing streaks," she said, but there
+was little comfort in blueing streaks. She got her opera glasses and
+peered through them at her beloved dresses. Brought up at close range,
+they were certainly blue-streaked, and there was plain lack of the snowy
+whiteness her stern washing-creed demanded.
+
+At intervals, small figures issued from the house and circled about the
+clotheslines, inspecting their contents critically. Miss Theodosia saw
+one of them--it was the child of her doorstep--lay questionable hold (it
+must be questionable!) upon a delicate garment and examine a portion of
+it excitedly. She saw the child dart back to the house and again issue
+forth, dragging the slender young washerwoman. Together they examined.
+Miss Theodosia caught up her glasses and brought the little pair into
+the near field of her vision; she saw both anxious young faces. The face
+of Stefana was strained and careworn.
+
+Miss Theodosia was thirty-six years old, and all of the years had been
+comfortable, carefree ones. In the natural order of her pleasantly
+migratory, luxurious life, she had rarely come into close contact with
+careworn or strained faces; this contact through the small, clear lenses
+seemed startlingly close. Stefana's lean and anxious face, the child's
+baby-bent little back, like the back of an old woman--it was at these
+Miss Theodosia looked through her pearl glasses. She forgot to look at
+the garment the children examined so troubledly. Suddenly, Miss
+Theodosia Baxter--traveler, fortune-favored one--found herself as
+anxious for the success of Stefana's stout little project as the two
+young people within her field of view, but, suddenly and unaccountably,
+from a new motive. The slim, worn-looking little creature,--and that
+tinier, tired little creature--must not fail! The stout project should
+succeed!
+
+Stefana carried the disputed garment back into the house and rewashed
+it; it was dripping wet when she again dangled it beside the others.
+Several times during the afternoon this process was repeated, until, at
+nightfall, the entire wash dripped, rewashed and soggy. Miss Theodosia
+nodded her head approvingly; she had her reasons for being glad that the
+wash was to remain out overnight.
+
+It was a starless, moonless night--a night to prowl successfully about
+clotheslines.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled. The little dry-goods box full of children was a
+small, vague blur, a little darker than the darkness. The children slept
+the profound sleep of childhood and childhood's unbelonging toil. Sleep
+was smoothing Stefana's roughened little nerves with gentle hand and
+fortifying her courage for yet more strenuous toils to come.
+Evangeline's weary little arm--and tongue--were resting.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled softly, to avoid disturbing the little box-house.
+She had the guilty conscience of the prowler that sent her heart into
+her mouth at the crackling of a twig under her feet. She found herself
+listening, holding her breath in a small panic. No sound of wakened
+sleepers, but there must be no more twigs.
+
+"I must add a postscript to Cornelia Dunlap's letter," she thought.
+"This would make a thrilling wind-up! Cornelia would say, 'Lawk-a-daisy
+me, it _can't_ be Theodosia Baxter!' She wouldn't need any little dog."
+
+Safe in her own house once more, Miss Theodosia breathed a sigh of
+relief. Saved! But there was another trip yet to be made to that region
+behind the vague little blur of a box. It was too soon to be relieved.
+
+"What I've done once I can do twice," boasted Miss Theodosia, undaunted,
+though at the approach of her second prowling expedition, her courage
+waned unexpectedly. "I mean if I have a cup of tea--strong," she weakly
+appended to her boast. It would take her longer out there the second
+time. She really needed tea.
+
+Miss Theodosia retired at eleven, tired but contented. She even smiled
+at her sodden fingers--when had Miss Theodosia Baxter's fingers been
+sodden before!
+
+The next morning, the child and the childlier child appeared at her
+porch, where she rocked contentedly.
+
+"She's ironin' 'em!--Stefana's ironin' 'em! No, I can't sit down; she
+said not to. She's ironed one dress three times. It's funny how irons
+stick, isn't it? No, not funny--mercy gracious! You oughter see
+Stefana's cheeks, an' she's burnt both thumbs--I'm keepin' Elly Precious
+out o' the way, an' she's forbid Carruthers comin' in a step. She'll get
+'em ironed, Stefana will. You can't discourage Stefana! Last night I
+kind of thought you could, but the clo'es whitened out beautiful in the
+night. Stefana said it was the night air. There wasn't a single streak
+left this mornin'. We're goin' to keep your money in Mother's weddin'
+sugar-bowl, an' when she comes back, we're goin' to ask her if she don't
+want some sugar!"
+
+All day Stefana toiled and retoiled. It was night when she sent one of
+the children to Miss Theodosia with her day's work. The one who came was
+Carruthers, chatty and deaf. Miss Theodosia did not have to do any
+talking.
+
+"Stefana says there's some smooches, but the worst ones come under your
+arms an' where they's puckers. The wrinkles Stefana hopes you'll
+excuse--they'll air 'out, she expects. She was comin' over an' explain,
+herself, but she's gone to bed. Evangeline's gone, too, to keep the baby
+quiet. Stefana says you needn't pay as much's you expected to, 'count o'
+the smooches an' wrink--"
+
+"I always pay the same price for my dresses," Miss Theodosia said,
+forgetful of the boy's affliction. She put the money into the hard
+little palm of Carruthers and watched him scamper home with it. Miss
+Theodosia looked happy. She felt pleasant little tweaks at her
+heartstrings as if small grimy hands were ringing them, playing a tender
+little tune. Scorched, blundering young hands--Stefana's. The little
+tune rang plaintive in her ears. She had a vision of Stefana toiling
+over the ironing of her dresses and going to bed exhausted, when the
+toil was over. Miss Theodosia's eyes followed Carruther's retreating
+little figure till it reached the House of Little Children and
+disappeared from view. What had she, Theodosia Baxter, to do with houses
+of little children? Since when had they possessed attractions for
+her--held her tender, brooding gaze? What was she doing here now,
+gazing? Theodosia Baxter!
+
+Stefana had folded the dresses painstakingly in separate newspaper
+bundles and stacked them on Carruther's outstretched arms. They were
+stacked now on Miss Theodosia's porch. She picked them up and turned
+with them into the house.
+
+"I'll unfold them," she thought, "and shake them out. I must tell her to
+send them home without folding next time--or I can go and get them
+myself."
+
+Unpinning Stefana's many pins, she lifted out one of the dresses. It
+creaked starchily under her hands; it opened out before Miss Theodosia's
+horrified vision. She uttered a groan.
+
+Where, now, was that tender little heart-string tune?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Miss Theodosia saw pink. Near-anger surged up within her at this
+ruinous, this piteous result of Stefana's toil. The result dangled
+creaksomely from her hands, revealing new wrinkles and smooches and
+leprous patches of starch at every motion. What was in this bundle would
+be in the rest--there was no hope.
+
+In Theodosia Baxter's little girlhood, she had played there were two
+"'Dosies," a good one and a bad one. The Good 'Dosie was often away from
+home, but was sometimes apt to appear at unexpected moments, to the
+embarrassment of the Bad 'Dosie. Stamp her foot as she would, Bad 'Dosie
+could not always drive the unwelcome intruder away.
+
+"I don't like her!" the small sinner had once been heard to say.
+"She--she p'eaches at me!"
+
+The Good 'Dosie was preaching now.
+
+"Wait! Count ten!" she preached. "Don't get any angrier, or you'll see
+red instead of pink. Think of that poor child's burned thumbs--think of
+her having to take to her bed when she got through--"
+
+"I don't wonder!" snapped Bad 'Dosie.
+
+"Wait--wait! Aren't you going to be good? Do you remember what you used
+to do, to help out? Well?"
+
+Miss Theodosia dropped the starchy mass on top of the other newspaper
+bundles and rather suddenly sat down in a chair. She saw a little child,
+preached to and penitent, on her knees, with folded hands, saying "Now I
+lame me down to sleep."
+
+It was very still in the room. Miss Theodosia's eyes closed and opened
+again. It was as if she had said "Now I lame me." A little smile tugged
+at the corners of her mouth. She no longer saw even pink.
+
+She got up briskly and began turning back her cuffs. First, she would
+build the kitchen fire; it must roar and snap, with all the work it had
+to do to-night. She would heat a lot of water, for only boiling water
+could take out Stefana's awful starch. While the water was heating, she
+would eat her supper.
+
+"A good, big supper, it will have to be," smiled this gentled Miss
+Theodosia. "I've got to get up my strength! No tea-and-toast-and-jam
+supper to-night." She heated her gridiron smoking hot and broiled a bit
+of steak. She tossed together little feathery biscuit and made coffee,
+fragrant and strong. Momently, Miss Theodosia's strength "got up." She
+moved about the kitchen briskly--when had she launched out upon a
+night's work like this? Adventure!--call it adventure.
+
+Work to Miss Theodosia had always meant something that other people
+did,--the Stefanas and their mothers and brothers and fathers. What she
+herself did, a gentle, dilatory playing at work, hardly merited the
+name. A bit of dusting, tea-and-toasting, making her own bed, cooking
+for sheer love of cooking, what did they count in Miss Theodosia's
+summing up of tasks?
+
+Always there had been some one to do her heavy things. She had put her
+washings out and taken her dinners in; three times a week she was swept
+and scrubbed and made immaculate.
+
+But to-night--to-night was different. This was to be no playing at work.
+Miss Theodosia rose to the occasion gallantly--indeed, exultantly.
+Thrills of enthusiasm ran up, ran down her spine. She prepared for a
+night of it.
+
+The dresses immersed in steaming hot water and her supper eaten, she
+stretched drying-lines, with considerable difficulty, from corner to
+corner of her kitchen, prepared an ironing-board, and got out long-idle
+irons. At eight o'clock she stopped for breath. Stefana's starch still
+resisted all inducements to part with Miss Theodosia's dresses; more hot
+water was required. After another steamy bath, they were cooled and
+wrung and draped over the crisscross clotheslines in the hot kitchen.
+Then Miss Theodosia temporarily retired from the field of battle.
+
+Theodosia Baxter had come back from her travelings to this small
+ancestral town with a mildly disturbing taste in her mouth. "Settling
+down" at thirty-six was not at all to her mind; she would not settle
+down!
+
+"If I catch you doing it, Theodosia Baxter!" she said. "If I catch you
+growing old! The minute you feel it coming on, you pack up and start for
+Rome! Or Paris! Or Turkistan! Start for Anywhere! Keep going!"
+
+But, already, did she feel it coming on even before all her trunks were
+unpacked? She was a little frightened at certain signs. Now, when she
+sat down heavily--why did she sit down heavily? If some one had called
+upon her for scores of little services, so that she must hop up again,
+immediately--little piping voices: "Mother, where's my cap?" "Mother,
+make Johnnie stop plaguing me!" "Mother, come quick!" If a big John had
+come home to her, demanding her time or sympathy or service--
+
+"No little Johns--no big one!" She sighed. "Is that the matter with you,
+Theodosia Baxter? Well, for Heaven's sake, don't tell anybody! Keep a
+bold front."
+
+She dozed a little in her rocker while she waited. Her plaintive
+reveries took the shape of a sober little dream wherein one Theodosia
+Baxter tottered on a cane and another walked briskly and youngly among
+Johns. Both Theodosias were thirty-six.
+
+"Mercy!" she exclaimed, waking up. "Where's my cane? I must go and iron
+Stefana's dresses!" She felt oddly refreshed. Queer dream to refresh
+one! She found herself thinking kindly of Stefana.
+
+"I hope she's sound asleep, and a pitying little girl angel with a
+nurse's cap under her halo will slip down and cure her thumbs before she
+wakes up."
+
+The irons she had set to heating were much too hot. Should she run
+out-of-doors while one of them cooled, and lie in wait to catch the
+little nurse-angel on the wing or perhaps darting thrillingly down to
+Stefana on a shooting star, breaking all speed limits! This was a night
+for adventure. The wild ride of a becapped and haloed little celestial
+in goggles would be an adventure! Miss Theodosia laughed out girlishly,
+not at all a tottery laugh on a cane, and the pleasant sound broke the
+midnight stillness.
+
+The dresses were dry enough to roll into tight bundles. One she essayed
+to iron as it was. She began as soon as the iron was cool enough.
+
+Miss Theodosia toiled--adventured--through the long hours into the
+short. It was unaccustomed toiling, and, like Stefana, she burned her
+thumbs. She had judgment and the skill that age kindly lends, in her
+favor, and slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's
+patient endeavors and brought beauteous perfection out of apparent ruin.
+But the process was wearying and long. It would have been but half the
+labor to have begun at the beginning instead of at Stefana's poor little
+end.
+
+At midnight, Miss Theodosia made herself cups of tea and sipped them
+thirstily. A wrist, both thumbs, and her testing forefinger smarted; she
+was tired and disheveled. But the spirit of adventure refused to die.
+
+The fire burned red-hot and the irons must cool again. Miss Theodosia
+slipped out this time into the soft darkness.
+
+"Let us hope Aunt Sarah will 'knit fast,'" she was thinking, with
+whimsical eyes. "But if she doesn't--Theodosia Baxter, dear, if Aunt
+Sarah is a slow knitter, you are in for it! I've no idea of letting you
+off. Baxters that begin, end."
+
+It was dim starshine out-of-doors. Miss Theodosia was too late to see
+the nurse-angel riding on her star, her little cap and halo awry with
+the downhill glide through space. She was too late to see her go into
+the dark little House of Children--but she saw her come out. Distinctly,
+a misty little blur of white against the velvet background. Miss
+Theodosia started a very little--did she need pinching to wake her?
+
+For the space of a clock-tick the little celestial appeared to hesitate,
+as though waiting for her star-steed to come within her hail. Then,
+floatingly, not walking, it seemed to Miss Theodosia, the mist of blurry
+white drew nearer. It came near to Miss Theodosia, and it was not the
+nurse-angel in cap and shining halo. It was Stefana!
+
+The child was in her nightgown. One look into her wide, unseeing eyes
+was enough; Stefana was asleep. In a chattering little voice she was
+talking to herself. It was like a soft wail of sound.
+
+"I must get them back! Quick, before she sees; I must iron them over.
+Perhaps if I starched them again--another coat of starch might hide the
+smooches. She mustn't see the smooches! If Mother should lose the
+chance--oh, I must get 'em back and starch 'em another coat! Mother
+mustn't lose her! My thumbs ache so!"
+
+Was she coming straight toward the door? No, a fortunate whiff of breeze
+seemed to blow her aside like a little seed-puff, and she went drifting
+by. She was apparently searching anxiously.
+
+"I must find them! Quick, before she sees! Oh, there are the smooches. I
+see some of the smooches! But I can't find the rest of them--"
+
+Miss Theodosia sprang forward in the direction of the pathetic little
+figure, but almost as quickly caught herself up. Sleepwalkers were not
+to be awakened suddenly. What then was to be done?
+
+"I must get her back to bed without letting her wake," thought Miss
+Theodosia. A plan suggested itself. She caught of her large apron,
+rolled it into a bulky mass, and swiftly followed the small nightgowned
+figure. Her steps made no sound over the grass. It was but the work of
+an instant to lay the roll of apron in Stefana's arms. Instantly, at the
+feel of starched cloth in her hands, the tense little face relaxed.
+
+"I've got 'em back!" Stefana muttered, and, as if from the relief of it,
+the troubled sleep seemed to calm and quiet down into deep oblivion to
+all troubles. To Miss Theodosia's dismay Stefana slid quietly to the
+ground and dreamlessly slept. Here, indeed, was adventure! Even at
+twelve years and Stefana small, the child was too heavy to carry home.
+
+"I don't dare to wake her," Miss Theodosia cried aloud, but softly, as
+if in fear of doing so.
+
+"You needn't--hush! I'll carry her for you."
+
+The voice seemed to materialize out of the gloom into something big and
+high and unexpectedly close at hand that rightly should have startled
+Miss Theodosia but failed to do so. Afterward, in the house again, among
+her irons, she was startled.
+
+"I was going by and saw her--you can tell a sleepwalker by the way one
+walks. Glides. Now, when I lift her, gently support her head--that's it.
+Forward, march!"
+
+"This way," Miss Theodosia directed in a whisper, though he was already
+moving this way. Shadow Man that he was, he stepped earthily, with thuds
+of his feet on the grass. Miss Theodosia's footsteps were soft echoes.
+So they came to the little House of Flaggs.
+
+"There's a light in that inside room, and I can see a bed. I'll lay her
+down, and you can go in afterward--and--er--smooth her out."
+
+"Yes--yes, I'll wait out here," whispered Miss Theodosia with a curious
+solemnity in her face. Rome, nor Paris, nor Anywhere had offered
+adventure like this--not like this. Miss Theodosia had an odd feeling
+that this, too, was a dream--and a John. Would they all wake up
+together?
+
+"Sound as a nut--never knew what hit her! But she wants straightening.
+New work for me; I'm not used to putting kiddies to bed."
+
+"Oh, I'm not either!" breathed Miss Theodosia, "but I might straighten
+one. I don't suppose you--you kissed her thumbs? Of course not!" She
+laughed softly. "But I shall."
+
+Now it was the Shadow Man's turn to laugh with a funny, explosive little
+effect as though he were not used to muffling his laughs,--as if this
+playing Shadow Man were a new role.
+
+"Why thumbs?" he whispered. "Why not lips, say, or eyes? I thought women
+kissed kiddies' eyes. Hope I haven't made a mistake--" as if he had some
+secret desire for women to kiss the eyes of little children. "If you
+don't mind kissing 'em when you go in there--"
+
+"I shall kiss her thumbs," Miss Theodosia said firmly. "They were burned
+at the stake for me. I know how burned thumbs feel."
+
+But the Shadow Man stubbornly persisted.
+
+"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll go back now and kiss her thumbs, if
+you'll kiss her eyes when you go in; as--er--a favor. 'Stoop over the
+little sleeper,' you know, and 'press your mother's lips to the closed
+blue orbs.'" He seemed to be quoting something.
+
+"But I haven't any mother's lips," sighed Miss Theodosia, "only the kind
+for thumbs--just thumbs. I'm sorry," she added humbly. Curiously she
+experienced no surprise at this intimate turn of a conversation with a
+Shadow Man at midnight.
+
+"That's all right--that's all right," the Shadow Man assured her. "Only
+thought I'd feel a little better to prove it was done that way. Hadn't
+any business mixing up with women's lips and kiddies' orbs, anyway!
+Serves me right." And now it was his turn to be humble. "Good night,"
+and he was gone.
+
+It was into a tiny bedroom off the kitchen, where a needle of light from
+a turned-down lamp barely pricked the darkness, that Miss Theodosia
+found her way. She had a dim picture of littering little clothes about
+the room and on the flat pillows of the bed the round, flushed face of
+Evangeline. In a clothes basket beside the bed she dimly saw a little
+mound that might be Elly Precious--it was Elly Precious! The little
+mound stirred with a curious, nestling sound, and instantly Stefana
+stirred also and crooned. Even in her sleep she was the little Mother.
+Miss Theodosia felt her own throat tighten and fill.
+
+Stefana still clasped the bundle of apron in her arms, and Miss
+Theodosia did not dare try to take it away from her. She merely arranged
+it a little more comfortably and smoothed Stefana out. Queer!--as if at
+some other time, in some passed-by existence, she had smoothed out a
+child. She seemed to know how. Suddenly she stooped and kissed, not
+Stefana's thumbs but her eyes.
+
+"The starch!" murmured Stefana as Miss Theodosia turned away. "Some'dy
+get it!" The deep sleep had broken a little, and through the break
+trickled a thread of Stefana's troubles. Then, again, silence and peace.
+No sound from bed or clothes basket on the floor.
+
+Outside, in the faint starlight, Miss Theodosia drew a long breath. She
+softly laughed. Curious how much like a sob a little laugh can be! Oh,
+starlit night of adventuring! What next? Miss Theodosia's mantle of
+gentle melancholy slid from her shoulders; she no longer felt
+apprehensions of growing old. Continually she saw Evangeline's rosy face
+on that flat pillow, and the little mound of Elly Precious. She
+remembered how tiny the house had looked from the inside, and how many
+little littering clothes she had seen. The appealing quality of empty
+little clothes! In Miss Theodosia's inside room of her soul, something
+stirred behind the locked door.
+
+The irons had cooled too much, and the fire was low. Miss Theodosia went
+to work again. As she worked, she talked to herself sociably.
+
+"Adventures thicken! Stars, and angels in caps, and children that walk
+in their little sleeps! And little heaps in clothes baskets, that are
+babies! And--Theodosia Baxter--a Man! Out of a clear, inky sky! Why
+weren't you scared? How do you know--you never even saw his face--maybe
+he was a thief, and a marauder, and a thug!"
+
+Granted, if thieves and marauders and those awful things, thugs, carry
+little loads or sleep as tenderly as women--and never wake them; if they
+are polite and say good night--. What kind of marauding and--and
+thugging is that?
+
+"What will Stefana think when she finds my apron in bed with her!"
+suddenly laughed Miss Theodosia, breaking the spell. "Funny Stefana! she
+goes to my heart, she and her starch--when they're asleep!"
+
+But, awake, Stefana's starch went to Miss Theodosia's back and aching
+bones. It was three o'clock when she was ready to go to bed. Over chairs
+and the couch in her sitting-room, lay the three redeemed white dresses,
+soft again and very smoochless and smooth. Miss Theodosia stood and
+admired. She was full of pride and weariness. At last, at thirty-six,
+she had done real work; she loved the feel of it in her tired bones. She
+loved her night of adventuring. Life--she loved that. So she went to bed
+at three, when the birds were beginning to get up. If her throat--calm
+and grown-up throat--had not persistently tightened, she would have gone
+to sleep laughing at the remembrance of it all. All the funny night. Why
+wasn't it funny? Why couldn't she laugh? She sat up in bed.
+
+On the morning after her adventurous night, as Miss Theodosia lingered
+luxuriously over her late breakfast, came bursting in Evangeline Flagg.
+A gray-checked something waved from her hand like a flag of truce.
+Evangeline always burst into things--houses, and rooms, and excited
+little speech.
+
+"Here it is!--that is, if it's yours. Stefana says to ask. 'Tain't ours.
+Mercy gracious, no! We don't take our aperns to bed. Stefana never heard
+of such a thing. Neither o' us never. In bed--right straight in bed! An'
+Stefana hugging it up like everything! She says to ask you if it's yours
+because it ain't ours, nor anybody else's, an' it's got to be somebody's
+apern, and once I thought I saw a gray 'n' white one hanging through
+your window--I mean on a nail, but, mercy gracious, what was it doing in
+bed with me an' Stefana!"
+
+Even Evangeline's breath had limitations. She stopped as headlong as she
+had begun. She unwound the large, voluminous-skirted apron from her
+grasp and extended it.
+
+"Here 'tis, if it's yours," she gasped, spent. She was gazing at it with
+a species of awe; it was an "apern" of mystery, not a human apern. "An'
+if 't isn't, take it--Stefana said not to dare to bring it back.
+We--we're sort of afraid of it, honest. Though, of course, Stefana says
+it must 've blew in the window"--the tide of speech was coming in once
+more--"an'--an' sort of landed on the bed, an' Stefana kind of grabbed
+it in her sleep, thinking it was Elly Precious. But, mercy gracious!"
+
+"Sit down," Miss Theodosia said, smiling. "Doesn't it tire you to talk
+as fast as that?"
+
+"Some," admitted Evangeline, "but I don't mind. What I mind is
+ghosts--aperns an' the kind with--with legs." She dropped her voice. "I
+saw one las' night."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia breathed.
+
+Evangeline nodded solemnly. "Out the window. I woke up feelin' one, an'
+I saw it goin' across the grass. White. Slinky."
+
+"Oh, not--slinky!" protested Miss Theodosia, suddenly championing the
+ghost-with-legs.
+
+"Slinky," firmly. "I guess I'd a-screeched right out if I hadn't
+remembered the baby. Elly Precious is terrible hard to put to sleep
+second time. You aren't much acquainted with babies, are you?"
+
+Again--so soon! Miss Theodosia's humility returned.
+
+"We're acquainted, over to our house! Mother says babies are great
+edge--edge--"
+
+"Educators?"
+
+"That's it! Mercy gracious, then I should think Mother'd be graduated!"
+
+After Evangeline's departure, Miss Theodosia set down her coffee cup and
+gave herself up to laughter. The room rang with the pleasant sound of
+it.
+
+"Will you l-listen to yourself, Theodosia Baxter!" she cried at length,
+out of breath. "You actually sound happy!"
+
+In the afternoon, a bevy of Miss Theodosia's old friends called on her
+as she sat on her front porch. They had intended, they said, to wait
+till the proper time, according to etiquette, for calls upon returned
+travelers.
+
+"But we wanted to see you so much, after all this time," one of them
+said. "We decided we couldn't wait to be proper. Besides, it would be
+such a risk. While we waited, you'd run off again. It was really our
+only way. Ladies, will you see how lovely and white she looks! Perfectly
+spotless!" The speaker sighed. Her own dress was dark and spot-colored.
+"I don't see how you do it! I tell Andrew I'd rather dress in white than
+in velvet--I love it! But, there, I couldn't get a minute to wear the
+dresses; it would take all my days to do 'em up. Of course, with you
+it's different. I don't suppose you ever toiled over an ironing-board a
+day in your life."
+
+Miss Theodosia gravely shook her head. "No," she said, curious little
+twinkling lines deepening round her eyes, "I never did--a day--in my
+life."
+
+"That's what I thought! That's what I told Andrew. 'Theodosia Baxter
+don't know what work is,' I told him. It's easy enough for some women to
+wear lovely white things. Simplest thing in the world!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's cryptic little smile lingered on her lips and in the
+clear windows of her eyes, as she gazed past the voluble wife of Andrew,
+through her vines, at the little House of Children next door. She
+imagined she heard Stefana singing, high up and sweet, over her work.
+Wait!--that was not a singing sound!
+
+A single shriek shot above the clear humming noise that might be
+Stefana. Then another--a third!
+
+"Some one is hurt!" cried Miss Theodosia, and she kilted her smooth
+white skirts and ran.
+
+Again that dread shriek! Over her shoulder, as she ran, Miss Theodosia
+gave directions to her startled callers.
+
+"Telephone for a doctor--any doctor. In the side hall--on a table!" But
+could any doctor save the life of that terrible shriek? If it came once
+more--It came! Miss Theodosia involuntarily closed her eyes to shut out
+a sight of horror.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+She opened them hurriedly at the soft collision of herself with
+Evangeline.
+
+"Who is it? Is it the baby? I've sent for the doctor." Half-remembered,
+half-read first aids crowded her mind confusedly. Warm water and
+mustard--that was for hemorrhage--no, no--poison! But did you apply it
+inside or out? What was that about laying the patient up hill--feet
+higher--or was it feet lower--down hill?
+
+"Take me there, quick! We must do what we can till the doct--oh, the
+poor baby!"
+
+"Mercy gracious goodness! Elly Precious is eatin' bread an' molasses.
+He's only et one slice, an' most o' that's on his outside. They aint'
+an'thing worse'n molasses the matter with El--"
+
+"There! Oh, there!" As another mournful cry split the air.--"Oh, that!
+What is it? Who is it?"
+
+"Mercy gra--why, that's Carruthers bein' a steam whistle. Did he scare
+you? He does do it pretty loud when he's gettin' up steam; you see, he
+don't know how loud he does it, because he's deaf o' hearin'. We can't
+bear to lower him, but we only let him be a steam whistle for a
+treat--when he's 'specially good--Mother said to. Stefana found him
+washin' his face 'free greatest' this mornin', so she let him--.Quick,
+shut your ears! He's goin' off again!"
+
+'But, this time, Miss Theodosia heard, unalarmed. To her own surprise,
+she listened almost enjoyingly. To be able to make a noise like that!
+The sheer vitality and youth of it compelled admiration.
+
+"If I could do that--" began Miss Theodosia's thought, then broke off
+hastily as the mental vision of herself in the act of bein' a steam
+whistle appeared to her.
+
+"You do it this way," explained Evangeline, inserting a forefinger in
+each corner of her mouth and preparing to steam-whistle.
+
+"No, no, I don't do it any way!" Miss Theodosia protested smilingly. "Do
+you think--do you think, perhaps, he has been sufficiently rewarded for
+washing his own face, now? Because, you see, I have callers on my
+porch."
+
+"Mercy gracious--I see 'em! I'll go right an' stop Carruthers! That's
+what Stefana said--that we'd ought to remember you wasn't in Europe
+now."
+
+"I think I could hear steam whistles there!" Miss Theodosia smiled. But
+Evangeline's sober mind continued its line of thought.
+
+"Stefana says if you'll hang somethin' red out when you're asleep, or
+got callers, or anythin', then she'll make us play funeral."
+
+"Oh, no--not that!" No red flag of warning could justify playing
+funeral.
+
+"Well, Hold-Your-Breath, then. We can't make much noise holding our
+breaths! Stefana's the champion Hold-Your-Breath-er. You take an awful
+long breath--this way--" But, already, Miss Theodosia was on her way
+home. She found her callers moving agitatedly about. "Central asked what
+doctor, and for the life of me I couldn't remember a living doctor's
+name in this town. 'Anybody,' I told her. 'Tell him to come quick;
+somebody must be dying over to the little Flagg place."
+
+Miss Theodosia lifted a hand to stem the tide of Mrs. Andrew's words.
+
+"He's stopped dying--listen! It's all quiet now; it was only play. I'll
+head Central off. Excuse me a minute--I mean, another minute!"
+
+But Central had done her work well--beyond heading-off. Already an
+automobile was speeding up the road; behind it clattered a
+hurriedly-driven buggy. Miss Theodosia saw them both stopping at the
+little Flagg place. She smiled. She was not needed over there to make
+any explanations or apologies--Evangeline was there!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+She sat on her porch after the visitors had gone, thinking strange Miss
+Theodosia thoughts. A man, coming up her front path and lifting a soft
+felt hat, interrupted the strangest thought of all.
+
+"I beg your pardon. Is this where somebody needs help? I was told--"
+
+Miss Theodosia laughed outright.
+
+"I do need help. Were you ever a steam whistle? You put two fingers in
+your mouth, one in each corner--I was trying to get up my courage to do
+it!"
+
+The felt hat rolled down the steps, the stranger needing both his hands.
+
+"Like this?"
+
+"Ye-s. I never saw a steam whistle, you know. That was what I was
+wishing."
+
+"Heard one? Because I can give a demonstration."
+
+"Don't!" Miss Theodosia shut her ears.
+
+"I heard one--demonstration. I thought some one was dying, at least."
+
+"Oh, that was the 'help wanted!' I see. My services are not required,
+then; it was a false alarm."
+
+Miss Theodosia was on her feet, remembering her manners. "It was a true
+enough alarm; won't you sit down? I think my nerves need a doctor."
+
+"Did I call myself a doctor? I am a reformed doctor, madam. It is some
+years since I got out. But I thought, in a very urgent case--fits, you
+know, or something like that--Thank you, I won't sit down. My work calls
+me."
+
+Miss Theodosia inclined her head politely, but curiosity seized her. How
+curious she was getting about many things!
+
+"I wish I knew--" she began.
+
+"Yes, madam?"
+
+"What work 'calls' reformed doctors. After they are--out."
+
+The stranger's big, unharnessed laugh was almost startling to Miss
+Theodosia. Why? She had never heard just such a big, unharnessed laugh
+before. She had heard a big harnessed laugh--when? Before she could
+answer her own thought, or the stranger could answer her spoken query, a
+hurry of small feet sounded. Only Evangeline's feet could break speed
+limits like that.
+
+"Oh, Miss Theodosia--oh, I don't want to int'rupt, but just soon's he's
+gone--"
+
+"He's gone," sighed Miss Theodosia, as the child came up. "You mustn't
+interrupt again, that way, unless it's a very urgent case--fits or
+something." In spite of proper vexation, she smiled. "Who was that man,
+Evangeline, that just went away?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I wasn't acquainted with his back; that's every speck
+o' him I saw. Oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, what is the matter now?"
+
+"'D you ever do up a man, Miss Theodosia? Stiff--awful stiff? Stefana
+says it's bad enough to do women up. She's havin' a dreadful time! We
+can't get the stiffness out; I been helpin'. It stands up alone!"
+Suddenly, without warning, Evangeline went off into a series of shrill
+shrieks.
+
+"Stop me! Stop me! Don't l-let Stefana hear me! Don't l-let me laugh!"
+
+This was an urgent case--fits or something, surely! Miss Theodosia's
+eyes sought the horizon for a reformed doctor. In lack of one, she shook
+Evangeline.
+
+"Stop at once! Make yourself stop; count ten!"
+
+"One! Two-o! Th-ree!" shrieked Evangeline, through to ten. Ten separate
+shrieks. Then, abruptly, she ceased.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I've stopped! I hope Stefana wasn't listenin'. But she
+wasn't; she was cryin'. I left her cryin'. If you could come over--.
+Honest, we can't do a thing! We thought you'd probably did up men."
+
+Miss Theodosia never had. Not so--awful a thing as that!
+
+"It stands up alone, with both arms out! I don't dass to go back. I
+shall laugh if I do, an' if I laugh, Stefana'll cry. She don't think
+it's f-funny." The shrieks showed signs of returning, and Miss Theodosia
+again had recourse to stern measures.
+
+"Count ten!" she demanded, as she shook.
+
+They went back together to the mysterious something that stood alone
+with both arms out. It was in that pose as they approached it. Miss
+Theodosia thought it was f--funny; an awful desire to shriek like
+Evangeline took possession of her. She counted ten in inward haste.
+
+"I can't do anything with it!" wailed poor Stefana. "And Elly Precious
+gets into it, and makes it walk! He's in it now."
+
+"It's walkin'!" shrieked Evangeline, as the portentously stiff shirt
+staggered a little to one side. Stefana, filled with enthusiasm and
+generosity of soul, had starched not the bosom alone but the entire
+shirt. She had done it thoroughly. The result was alarming. It was a
+terrible shirt!
+
+"Tell me what to do--somebody tell me!" entreated the little laundress.
+"I've unstarched it, and unstarched it, and seems as if it got stiffer."
+
+"Boiling water," breathed Miss Theodosia, too spent with her struggles
+not to laugh, to admit of further speech.
+
+"Wait! Don't anybody dass to pour boilin' water on till I get Elly
+Precious out! Come to Evangeline this minute, darlin' dear--no, they
+shan't boil him!"
+
+Elly Precious emerged, crowing. The deaf-but-not-dumb little Flagg
+appeared, to swell the number around the Terrible Shirt. Stefana dried
+her tears. Miss Theodosia had the sense of being looked up to--relied
+upon. She rose to the occasion buoyantly. As unused as Stefana to men's
+bosoms, she yet stepped into the breach. Unused to issuing orders, she
+issued them.
+
+"Evangeline, you and Carruthers see to the baby. Stefana, come with me.
+Bring--it."
+
+They went back to the big house, she with that new and intoxicating
+sense of importance, and Stefana with the Terrible Shirt.
+
+"Whose is it--that?" she asked, indicating the creaking white garment.
+"What were you doing with it?"
+
+"Starching it," mumbled poor Stefana. "It took most a package. He said
+he liked his stiff. 'Put in plenty o' starch,' he said to Mother, and
+she always did. So I did. I thought if he said--"
+
+"If who said?" It took a long time to establish the identity of the
+Terrible Shirt.
+
+"If he did, the man it belongs to."
+
+"What man--who?"
+
+"The man that writes things."
+
+"What things?"
+
+"We don't know exactly. Evangeline thinks tracts. She says his room was
+all full o' half sheets o' paper--lying all over everywhere. She saw
+'Good Lord' on one. Perhaps it's sermons. Mother always sent Evangeline
+home with his wash; I never went. He is a very nice man--oh, that's why
+I feel so bad about his shirt! I wouldn't care if he was an--an
+infidel!"
+
+"Bless your heart!"
+
+Miss Theodosia turned suddenly and embraced Stefana and the shirt.
+"Don't worry any more," she said; "you and I will work wonders with that
+Tract Man's shirt! Stefana, put the kettle on and we'll go to it!
+There's nothing two determined people can't do, once they've put their
+minds on it."
+
+Together they labored, and the impossible happened. Theodosia Baxter did
+up a man! She--and Stefana--succeeded in getting the starch out of the
+surrounding area and into the bosom of the Terrible Shirt. They got much
+starch in. Inspiration appeared to come to Miss Theodosia. Even the
+really awful task of ironing that bosom till it glittered and shone in
+unwrinkled board-like expanse was at length accomplished. Miss Theodosia
+was justly proud of herself--and of Stefana; she insisted upon including
+Stefana in her triumphs.
+
+"Eureka!" she exulted. "Call Evangeline, Stefana, and Elly Precious, and
+Carruthers! Call in a Chinaman, if you like, and tell him to look at
+that! Ask him to beat it!"
+
+"There isn't any in this town," responded literal Stefana. "That's why
+Mother did bosoms. She'd a good deal rather not've."
+
+"But I love to do bosoms!" sang Miss Theodosia. "I never felt so worth
+while in my life before--an artist in starch, Stefana!"
+
+"Well, you've done beautifully--I never did see!" the grateful Stefana
+cried. "But I'm afraid it's kind of gone to your head. I think you
+better lie down."
+
+"Send for the Reformed Doctor! Stefana, what are you doing with my
+beautiful bosom?"
+
+"I won't muss it. I'm just going to take it home and sew the buttons on.
+There's two off. Mother always sewed 'em on; he pays two cents extra for
+repairs."
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair face flushed. "You don't stir a step with it! I
+have buttons and a spool of thread--what I do, I finish doing! Give it
+to me."
+
+For the first time, Miss Theodosia handled a man's garment intimately.
+It lay stiffly across her lap. She sewed on the two buttons; she mended
+a tiny "hog-tear." Life had taken on new interests--bosoms and buttons.
+She thrilled--when had she ever thrilled before? Ironing her own dresses
+had been a poor, tame business. She would be sorry to part with this
+shirt!
+
+And then Evangeline came.
+
+"Mercy gracious, doesn't it look elegant! I came over because he's come
+for his shirt. He says he's goin' to begin a new story, an' he always
+has to have a clean shirt on. An' his hair cut--he's got it cut. I guess
+that bosom'll match his hair all right! It's perfectly lovely!"
+
+"What did you do with Elly Precious, Evangeline Flagg!" demanded
+Stefana.
+
+"That's it--that's why I got to hurry back. He's keepin' Elly Precious
+for me, an' he don't know what to do with babies. He says all his are
+paper ones--paper babies! He gave Elly Precious his knife, an' opened
+the blades to amuse him! He said he guessed Elly Precious wouldn't hurt
+'em!" Evangeline's face registered great scorn. "If you'll give it to
+me, I'll carry it to him," she concluded, holding out her hand for the
+shirt. But Miss Theodosia sewed calmly on. She had found a second tear
+larger than the first. It would be better to strengthen it with a little
+piece underneath. She would find a white scrap in her bag of pieces.
+
+"It is not ready yet. He can wait. But you must not wait, Evangeline.
+Elly Precious may be playing with his pistol, if he carries one."
+
+"He don't. He ain't a pistol-man, but, mercy gracious, how you scare me!
+You comin' too, Stefana?"
+
+"Yes, Stefana can go now. She is all through," which was Miss
+Theodosia's kind inclusion of Stefana. That, again, was curiously new to
+Miss Theodosia. Psychological changes were taking place--or were they
+just plain tugs on Miss Theodosia's heartstrings?
+
+She sat and sewed.
+
+"Patching--I'm patching!" she laughed to herself. "And here I've been
+hiring my own mending done! Theodosia Baxter, see what you are doing;
+you are patching a shirt for a man! No, I'm not, either! I'm doing it
+for Stefana--what are you talking about?"
+
+Some one came up her steps and knocked on her open door. But she was too
+engrossed to hear. The patch underneath had slipped a little askew. She
+ripped out some of the stitches and began again. She caught herself
+humming as she worked.
+
+"Please may I have my shirt?" a voice asked meekly. "That story is
+promised for next month. It's the twenty-eighth, now."
+
+Evangeline's Tract Man stood in the doorway, soft felt hat in hand,
+twinkles in his eyes. Evangeline's Tract Man was the Reformed Doctor! If
+Miss Theodosia had been eighteen instead of thirty-six she would not
+have blushed more beautifully, but she continued to patch. She was
+caught in the act; no help for it now. But she would finish--that--
+patch.
+
+"So it's you! So that's the work Reformed Doctors do!"
+
+"Madam, yes. When stories appeal to them more than pills and tonics,
+they reform and write stories. They have to!" he cried, suddenly in
+earnest, "When one is life, and the other death--"
+
+"Oh, if it was death to them--your patients," she murmured. Then,
+ashamed of her own flippancy: "Of course, I didn't mean anything as
+silly as that! I meant--I meant, please sit down while I finish this
+patch. There, in that easy-chair. There are magazines on the table."
+
+There was one magazine with his own name in the list of contents. He
+opened it at that page and gazed down upon it quite soberly.
+
+"My name is John Bradford," he said, as if reading. Miss Theodosia
+started a little, but it was not as he thought, in his innocent vanity.
+Miss Theodosia got no farther than the first part of the name--so he was
+a John! She glanced quickly at the doorway, measuring him in her mind as
+he had stood against the lintel. He had reached a long way up--a long
+man. The Shadow Man had been a long shadow. Something told her--
+
+[Illustration: "If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into
+a story like that."]
+
+"Did you ever carry a child in your arms and lay her on a bed? In the
+middle of the night? Did you do it last night? Are you the same man?"
+
+"I am the same man I was last night," he answered gravely. "I was John
+Bradford then, too. Didn't I carry her all right? What was the matter?"
+Suddenly he leaned forward in the chair. "Did you kiss her thumbs?" he
+demanded.
+
+"I kissed her eyes."
+
+They were silent for a little, while Miss Theodosia set small, nervous
+stitches in John Bradford's shirt, and John Bradford twiddled the edges
+of the magazine. He stole glances, now and then, at this strange woman
+with whom he seemed to have come so oddly into contact. He could make a
+story of her dark hair, straight shoulders, beautiful hands. He could
+not get a good view of her full face. Bending over a bed, kissing a
+little sleeper's eyes--he could work her in that way. If he knew her a
+little better--
+
+"I knew they did it!"
+
+"Did what--who?"
+
+"Women--kissed that way. You have proved it now."
+
+"I'm not women. I'm just one woman, and I never did it in my life
+before."
+
+"Well, you liked doing it, didn't you? I could put you in, liking it."
+
+The shirt slid to the floor, and Miss Theodosia gave her visitor a full
+view of her face.
+
+"Are you making 'copy' of me? Because if you are thinking of putting me
+anywhere, put me into a story like that. I'd like it. I mean, with
+little children in a bed--and one in a clothes basket! Say I tucked them
+in--Yes, I liked kissing Stefana's eyes. I should love to have another
+chance. It's nothing to be ashamed of, is it, to like little children?"
+
+"I like 'em. I always have."
+
+"Well, I always haven't. Only very lately--it's queer. When I came home
+here and found all those children next door--mercy gracious!"
+
+They both laughed. Laughing together is a great acquaintancer. Miss
+Thedosia suddenly thought of something and laughed a little more.
+
+"My name is Theodosia Baxter," she said. They rose and shook hands
+gravely. They were decently introduced. The beautiful shiny bosom of the
+shirt lay between them like a white mirror and Miss Theodosia caught the
+man's glance on it.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of--doing up a shirt?" she demanded.
+
+"Not doing it up like that! That's a work of art!"
+
+"A work of heart--I did it for Stefana. I've got quite fond of it now,
+and shall hate to part with it. It's a friend."
+
+"A bosom friend," he parried. Again they laughed and grew more
+acquainted. Miss Theodosia made tea in her dainty Sevres cups. The
+faintest flecks of pink made her face youthful. Miss Theodosia was a
+good-looking woman always, but, animated, her face was really lovely.
+John Bradford was better used to paper women, like paper babies, but his
+taste recognized flesh-and-blood attractiveness. He had always been a
+lonely man--until now.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time," he sighed. "Is it anything to be ashamed
+of, to have a beautiful time?"
+
+"Or two cups of tea? Please! This is my company tea--warranted good to
+write stories on!"
+
+"Oh--stories. Are there such things? Did I ever write one? Have I got to
+write another?"
+
+"It's the twenty-eighth," Miss Theodosia reminded demurely. "But you
+will need another cup of tea. How long does it take?"
+
+"To drink another cup?"
+
+"To write another story. Tell me about it. Perhaps I could do it. You
+take a blotter and a pen and plenty of half-sheets of paper--'tracts,'
+Evangeline calls them! Then you write 'Good Lord!' That is what
+Evangeline says you wrote on a tract! She said maybe it was a sermon."
+
+"Oh--Evangeline! And speaking of angels--"
+
+"Mercy gracious! You're here--both o' you! An' somebody's gone an'
+spilled a drop of somethin' on that beautiful bosom!"
+
+"A tear-drop, Evangeline, because she wouldn't give it to me."
+
+"Tea drop!" sniffed Evangeline. "Guess I know! After all Stefana's work!
+Miss Theodosia, can Elly Precious eat your grass? He's out there now. He
+don't really eat it; he just kind of pretends. Mother says Elly Precious
+ought to be put out to pasture. We haven't got any grass to speak of,
+over to our house."
+
+"Don't speak of it! Of course he can eat mine, if you think it is
+edible. Ask the Reformed Doctor."
+
+"Him a doctor? Mercy gracious--honest? Then he knows if Elly Precious'd
+ought to eat grass--not really eat, you know."
+
+"Just graze a little--let him graze." The Reformed Doctor rose to his
+feet and held out his hand to Miss Theodosia. "I'll go out and see how
+he does it. It's lucky Evangeline came in, or I might not have known
+enough to go at all. I've had a beautiful time. I'll put you in with the
+bedful of kiddies."
+
+"And the clothes basket?"
+
+"And the clothes basket."
+
+"You haven't got your shirt--mercy gracious! I thought that's what you
+came after," reminded Evangeline.
+
+"Was it?" the Reformed Doctor said. "Give it to me, Evangeline."
+
+"Not naked! Without wrappin' up! I never did see!"
+
+"It's such a good-looking shirt--well, then, wrap it up, wrap it up.
+I've got a newspaper in my pocket. Put that round it, Evangeline." He
+turned again to his hostess. "It will be a good story if I put--the
+clothes basket--in it. They won't send it back. Good-by."
+
+He was off to inspect Elly Precious' grazing-ground. Evangeline, at the
+window where she had gone to make sure her darlin' dear was safe,
+presented to Miss Theodosia a square, bony little back that was
+curiously like that of a dwarfed old woman.
+
+The trail of innocent Elly Precious was over that stoopy little figure.
+Miss Theodosia looked with softened eyes. Then a smile grew in them,
+wrinkling their corners whimsically. She was noticing something else
+besides the little old-lady back. Evangeline's braids toed in! Tight and
+flaxen, they stood out in rounded curves, converging suddenly to the bit
+of faded ribbon that tied them together. There was something suspicious
+looking about that ribbon--"Stefana starched it!" smiled Miss
+Theodosia's thought.
+
+The small figure whirled face about.
+
+"There, _he_ can see to him awhile." Evangeline was always cheerfully
+oblivious to any confusion of ideas arising from her use of personal
+pronouns. "I'm tired. Children are a great care," said Evangeline. She
+seated herself in an easy chair and dangled thin legs.
+
+"If you drank tea--I'll make you a cup of cocoa, Evangeline."
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious, no! I'm not as tired as _cocoa_. Jus'
+sit-'n'-a'-chair tired. You know how it feels--no, you don't either.
+I forgot. I guess you are pretty lucky. No, I don't guess so _either_!"
+Evangeline suddenly straightened on the edge of the big chair and eyed
+Miss Theodosia sternly, as though that innocent soul had been the one
+guilty of disloyalty to darlin' dears.
+
+"Children are a great comfort," declaimed Evangeline with emphasis. She
+might have been the mother of six comforts. Tenderness crept into her
+eyes, and her freckles seemed to fade out, and even the small blunt nose
+of her take on middle-agedness and motherliness. '"Specially when you
+undress 'em. They're so darlin' an' soft! You ever undressed one--a
+reg'lar _baby_ one? Of course not one o' your own when you never _had_
+any, but I thought p'raps you might've undressed a grandbaby or
+somethin'--"
+
+Miss Theodosia shook a humbled head.
+
+"No," she murmured, "I never undressed even a grandbaby." And curiously
+she failed either to smile at the child's little notion or to wince at
+the advanced age it implied for her. She looked across the room from her
+big chair to Evangeline's with rather a wistful look. She was envying
+Evangeline.
+
+"I'm sorry," the child said gently, a little embarrassed by the
+unexpected solemnity of the moment. To relieve it, she had recourse to a
+sudden funny memory of her own undressings of Elly Precious. She broke
+hurriedly into laughter.
+
+"I have to have an extra pig for my baby!" she shrilled. "Takes six
+instead o' five! You know where it ends, 'This little pig said: "Quee!
+Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door sill"?' Mercy gracious, you
+don't know the little pigs, I s'pose--" More embarrassment. Even
+Evangeline was losing presence of mind.
+
+"Oh, yes!" Miss Theodosia brightened perceptibly. "I know the one that
+went to market and the one that stayed at home--all five of them I
+know."
+
+"But you don't know Elly Precious's extra little pig!" crowed the
+reassured Evangeline. "Just _us_ know that one. I made him up. When you
+have six toes,--I mean when Elly Precious has,--you have to have six
+pigs. After the one that can't get over the barn-door sill, I say: 'This
+little pig said--' wait, I'll say the last two together so you'll see
+they rhyme beautifully. Reg'lar poetry.
+
+"'This little pig said, "Quee! Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door
+sill.'"
+
+"'_This_ little pig said, "He! He! He! when you tickle, I can't keep
+still!'"
+
+"Elly Precious wiggles it when I tickle! We laugh like everything. I
+think it is pretty good poetry," added Evangeline modestly.
+
+"It is beautiful poetry. I never could have begun to make up such a
+lovely, ticklish little pig!"
+
+Evangeline leaned back again in the soft cushiony embrace of the great
+chair and actually achieved a moment of silence. The talkative clock on
+Miss Theodosia's mantel filled in the space. Then once more Evangeline:
+
+"But I shall never have any."
+
+"Any--pigs?" smilingly.
+
+"Children. Not any. I've decided I'll rest. They're such a care. But of
+course I can run in an' undress Stefana's an' Elly Precious's--mercy
+gracious, Elly Precious's!"
+
+It required too great a mental effort to visualize them. Elly Precious's
+children were _funny_! Evangeline giggled softly. "Then I'll be a
+gran'mother, won't I! I've always wanted to be a gran'mother an' say
+what I did when _I_ was a child an' how I always _minded_." A fresh
+giggle. "'_I_ never had to be _told to_ twice, my dears,' I'll say to
+Elly Precious's children! They'll all be my dears. I'll help bring 'em
+up. Isn't it queer," broke forth Evangeline suddenly, "how when you get
+to be old you never were bad when you were young? The badnesses have
+kind of--kind of faded out. I bet there _were_ badnesses!"
+
+And Miss Theodosia found herself nodding decisively. She, too, bet there
+were.
+
+A hilarious little crow suddenly sounded from without the window; it was
+accompanied by a deep man-sound of mirth. Miss Theodosia and Evangeline
+smiled across at each other indulgently.
+
+"Elly Precious is havin' a good time. That's his good-time noise. Oh, I
+think he's a nice person, don't you?"
+
+"Nice? I love him!" cried Miss Theodosia warmly. Her face that was still
+the face of a girl was tenderly flushed. "I love every inch of him,
+Evangeline."
+
+"Merry gra--that's a lot of lovin'! I guess you are ahead o' me!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, aren't you ashamed! When he is the dearest,
+cunningest--"
+
+"Not--not _cunnin'est_. But he's got beautiful whiskers. I mean if he
+didn't shave 'em off. When he came, he had 'em on. You can't love his
+whiskers when you never saw--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up a limp hand to stem this terrible tide of words.
+
+"Oh, stop! _wait_, Evangeline!" she begged. "Who are you talking about?"
+
+Why stop for grammatic rules at a time like this?
+
+"Why, he--_him_. I said I liked him, an' you said you lov--"
+
+"I have been talking about Elly Precious, naturally," Miss Theodosia
+returned stiffly. "You are very careless with your pronouns,
+Evangeline," she added with an effect of severity. Her cheeks that
+persisted still in being a girl's cheeks had grown a warm, becoming
+pink. In pink Miss Theodosia was lovely.
+
+"Don't you think you'd better relieve Elly Precious' caretaker by this
+time? He may not enjoy being left in charge quite so long."
+
+"Not enjoy! Come an' see him not enjoy!" sang Evangeline from the
+window. She was flattening her nose against the pane and bubbling with
+sympathetic glee. Miss Theodosia went over and stood beside her.
+
+Out there the two of them were frolicking together--two joyous children.
+It was the good old game of Peek-a-boo, but seemed a new, surprising
+game to Miss Theodosia. The big playmate on the grass spread a
+handkerchief over the little playmate's face, and with a shriek of joy
+the little playmate did the rest. Then the big child's turn--turn and
+turn about. Deep voice and thin, sweet tinkle of baby voice joined in a
+curiously harmonious chorus that rang through the window pane into the
+two pairs of listening ears.
+
+It was a new light in which to see--a new sound in which to hear John
+Bradford. Miss Theodosia had a guilty consciousness of being an
+eavesdropper, yet she kept on eavesdropping. At a particular climax in
+the little play, she laughed aloud softly. Evangeline wriggled with
+enjoyment. Her fingers drummed applause on the glass, and the big player
+glanced quickly up and saw the two lookers-on. He did not hesitate in
+the play, did not stop the next little gleeful peek. Miss Theodosia
+loved it in him for not stopping. They were not ashamed--Elly Precious
+and John Bradford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+In the next few days Miss Theodosia unpacked the rest of her trunks and
+put the things away neatly in permanent places. She sang as she did it.
+Life seemed a singing thing to Miss Theodosia who had been a lonely
+woman--until now. Now she could look out of her window and see the
+little House of Flaggs. Any minute Evangeline might burst in. The steam
+whistle might blow. The Shadow Reformed-Doctor Man might come for
+another cup of tea. Anything might happen.
+
+Something did happen, but it was not a singing thing. Evangeline did
+burst in. It was some days later than the Day of the Shirt. Miss
+Theodosia sat comfortably sipping her afternoon tea. Two dainty cups
+were before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious--mercy, mercy, mercy gracious! This is the worst! This
+is worse than Aunt Sarah! An' to think it's Elly Precious, my darlin'
+dear! An' to think I never had--! An' to think I did it myself!"
+
+Even to Evangeline, words failed to express this worst of all things.
+She dropped, a little leaden thing of despair, into Miss Theodosia's
+great chair and rocked herself in anguish.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Miss Theodosia cried anxiously. The little word of
+endearment slipped out unconsciously, though she was not used to
+"dears." But she was not used to this, either--this rocking in anguish
+of a little child in her great chair.
+
+"Can't you stop crying and tell me?" Evangeline not able to talk! Miss
+Theodosia was actually alarmed. If speech did not return quickly--but
+speech returned.
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious me!" Evangeline sobbed, rocking harder, "to think I
+went an' set him right down in the middle of 'em--right slap in the
+middle! An' he didn't want to be set down. Elly Precious despises the
+Benjamin baby. He knows he's a girl, an' girl-babies don't count. But I
+set him down--oh, mercy gracious me, I went an' set him down, slap!"
+
+Sobs and words collided and inextricably mixed. In the dark Miss
+Theodosia waited; she saw no light as yet.
+
+"If I could only have 'em--if I only had've, anyway! Then I could take
+care of my darlin' dear. But Elly Precious's is the only measles we ever
+had in the family."
+
+Ah, light! Miss Theodosia blinked in the sudden inflow of it.
+Evangeline's released tongue leaped ahead.
+
+"How'd I know the Benjamin baby had 'em when she only just sneezed? Oh,
+I suppose she sneezed 'em all around, an' I set Elly Precious down in
+'em! Right in a nest o' measles!"
+
+"What was Elly Precious doing there? I don't remember any Benjamins."
+
+"No'm--oh, no'm. They're very recent. It's that house with the baby-pen
+in the front yard to keep their baby in. I set Elly Precious down in it,
+too, one day."
+
+Evangeline shuddered. "While I was gettin' Stefana's starch at the
+store; I asked if I could, till I got back."
+
+Miss Theodosia's face put on sternness. "What was the mother of the
+Benjamin baby thinking of, to let you?" she demanded.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I don't know! That's a very speckled baby, anyway,
+an' perhaps she didn't know measles from speckles. He didn't bloom out
+reg'lar built till next day--I mean she didn't--oh, I don't mean the
+mother didn't--"
+
+"I know, dear; I know what you mean," soothed Miss Theodosia gently.
+
+"Yes'm, that's what I mean. Next day they found out for sure."
+
+"But have you found out 'for sure'? How do you know Elly Precious has
+the measles? Has he--bloomed out? Perhaps his are speck--"
+
+"Elly Precious!" rose Evangeline's voice of indignation. "He's the
+unspeckledest baby you ever saw! I guess--I guess you never saw Elly
+Precious!"
+
+Stefana appeared suddenly in the doorway,--a blanched and frightened
+Stefana. But she was determinedly calm.
+
+"He's fell asleep, and Carruthers is watching him through the door. I
+told him not to go any nearer'n that. I came over to ask if I'd better
+send word to Mother. He said to ask you."
+
+"Carruthers?" Miss Theodosia was a little bewildered.
+
+"The Tract Man. He's the one that--that discovered Elly Precious's
+measles when we found he was broken out--I mean Elly Precious broken
+out--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know. He is a doctor--I mean--" Miss Theodosia caught
+herself up firmly. One at least must steer a clear course.
+
+"He was goin' past," Evangeline put in, "an' I asked him, if he uster be
+a doctor, wouldn't he please to be one now an' 'xamine Elly Precious's
+spots."
+
+"Measles," Stefana said briefly and hopelessly. "Shall we send for
+Mother, or what'll we do? Aunt Sarah isn't knitting."
+
+"Aunt Sarah--" began poor Miss Theodosia. Would she ever get used to
+little Flaggs? Evangeline broke in gloomily with explanation.
+
+"No'm, not knittin', Mother wrote Stefana. Kind of--of unravelin'
+instead. An' Mother's caught it."
+
+Miss Theodosia turned appealing eyes to Stefana.
+
+"Her knee's bad, too. Maybe it's just rheumatism, but she borrows Aunt
+Sarah's crutches when they're empty. I don't see how she'd get home--"
+
+"Don't send for her!" Miss Theodosia directed. Some inner voice seemed
+to say it through her lips. The same dictate from within prompted the
+rest.
+
+"Bring the baby over here. Bring all his nightgowns. I'll take care of
+him. It won't do for all you children to come down. Does the
+Reform--does the doctor think you can have caught them already? I don't
+believe it! Not till the disease is further advanced."
+
+"That's what he said--not till." Stefana hurried in eagerly. "_He_
+didn't believe it."
+
+"The Benjamin baby wasn't further advanced," doubted Evangeline
+discouragingly.
+
+"Never you mind the Benjamin baby! You bring your baby over here at once
+with his nightgowns! I believe we're in time. I'll be reading up my
+medicine book. You can tell the doctor to come here instead of to your
+house. Don't any of you dare to kiss Elly Precious good-by!"
+
+Miss Theodosia was moving briskly about the room, doing strange
+things,--pulling down shades and drawing together draperies.
+
+"Mustn't have too much light, though maybe that is later on, too. I'm
+sure there is something about being careful of the eyes. Evangeline,
+wait! Let Stefana go. I don't trust you; you might kiss him."
+
+"Yes'm, I might," sighed poor little Evangeline. "He's my darlin' dear."
+A terrible separation yawned before her like a bottomless pit of
+desolation. How was she to live Elly Preciousless?
+
+"Can't I come over an'--an' hold him when he isn't--when he isn't
+sneezing?" she suddenly sobbed forth. Miss Theodosia was too engrossed
+to be sympathetic. There were many things to think of.
+
+"Come over?--I should say not! You can't do anything but look through
+the window, and I shall ask the doctor if that's safe. Now
+listen--dear," again the "dear" slipped through her lips unconsciously.
+"Listen! When you see Stefana coming, you go out the back door! I wish
+I'd told her to bring him in the clothes basket instead of in her
+arms--"
+
+"I'll tell her to! Through the window. I'll tell her to bring him by the
+handles," and Evangeline hurried away excitedly.
+
+An hour later Miss Theodosia, in a voluminous white apron and a hastily
+invented white cap, had formally assumed her astonishing new role. Under
+the cap Miss Theodosia's cheeks were prettily pink. It was becoming to
+her to be Elly Precious' nurse. But the queer feeling of it! An hour ago
+Theodosia Baxter, in a big house, alone; now this becapped and
+pink-cheeked Theodosia in a house with a baby! It was an exciting
+change; what else might it become? She was a little afraid of Elly
+Precious.
+
+"Not now, while he is asleep, but when he wakes--" she thought. What
+would she do with Elly Precious when he waked?
+
+Of course, she had sent for the Reformed Doctor, and equally, of course,
+she would do precisely what he told her to do. But how would it feel? So
+far, it felt queer.
+
+"I'll wait and see," she concluded with philosophy. At six the doctor
+came. It was significant how he had left his role of authorship at home
+and came physicianly, brisk and competent.
+
+"Measles haven't changed, anyway, in ten years," he said as he removed
+his coat. Long ago, as a doctor, John Bradford had had his
+idiosyncrasies, and one of them had been to work in his shirt sleeves.
+The laying aside of his coat now had, if Miss Theodosia had but known,
+bridged over the ten years.
+
+"Am I quarantined?" demanded the nurse.
+
+"You are," promptly replied the doctor.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+Silence while the tiny patient was carefully examined, with so delicate
+a touch that he slept on.
+
+"For how long?" then.
+
+"Oh--weeks. Two, perhaps. Perhaps three. He is beginning to be feverish
+in earnest now. You got him over here just in time. May I have a glass
+of water?"
+
+Miss Theodosia went away to get it on shaking legs. She almost
+staggered. The plot was getting thick!
+
+"If you think his mother ought to be sent for--I'm afraid I'm in a blue
+funk!" She had returned and was splashing the water over the edge of the
+glass as she held it out. He laughed reassuringly. His face, turned
+sidewise up at her, was as reviving as cool water upon a faint. Miss
+Theodosia "came to."
+
+"I've got over it. Go ahead--tell me precisely what you want done. Write
+it down somewhere. I can read writing! And I can't forget it. Of course
+I can rock him?"
+
+He did not answer at once, and she misinterpreted his silence.
+
+"I shall rock him," she said with firmness. "Written down or not written
+down." And again he laughed, with the same curiously explosive little
+effect as when she had first heard him do it as a Shadow Man.
+
+It was long after he left before Elly Precious woke. With remarkable
+presence of mind, Miss Theodosia had darkened the room to make the
+difference between herself and Evangeline or Stefana as inconspicuous as
+possible. It helped. Elly Precious, even busy with his measles, might
+have vigorously refused this strange new ministering. But in the
+darkness he accepted it with a measure of resignation. He appeared to be
+looking inward at his own poor little pains instead of outward or upward
+at Miss Theodosia. She wisely refrained from speech during those first
+critical moments.
+
+Ten-year-old arms may not be as steady for cradling as thirty-six-year
+olds. Miss Theodosia's were steady and soft. The baby nestled into them
+and she rocked him.
+
+She was rocking a baby! She was glad to be alone in the dark. The
+sensation rather overwhelmed her. Then Elly Precious flung up little hot
+hands and touched her face, and the sensation was no longer a new one.
+Surely she had felt it before. Was it in another incarnation that she
+had rocked a little child? The small, hot hands tugged at her
+heartstrings--they must have tugged, just so, at that ancient rocking.
+It was a beautiful tune, but not a new tune that the small hands played.
+No, no--not new!
+
+Miss Theodosia began to croon softly, no longer afraid of sound. And
+Elly Precious snuggled deeper.
+
+Shut in together--she and he and the measles--they grew accustomed to
+each other. After the first, the days went rather fast, with
+Evangeline's help through the window and under the door. Evangeline
+helped from the first. Miss Theodosia found little letters emerging
+through the tight crack under her outside door. The first one she read
+smilingly:
+
+[Illustration: Evangeline established a stage of action outside the
+window.]
+
+"He likes jiggy tunes best--please sing him jiggy tunes."
+
+So she sang them to Elly Precious and found he liked them best;
+Evangeline knew. This method of helping promised to be valuable.
+
+One day there were two little letters under the door.
+
+"When he crys, he'll stop if you distrack him. Like this--_boo_--or make
+a cow-noise or a horse-noise, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes he
+keaps right on and then its no use to distrack him. Try tickleing unless
+tickleing is bad for measles."
+
+This was a long note. Miss Theodosia did not smile this time because of
+the new sensitiveness in the region of her heart. When she read the
+second note, she held it a long time in her hand while something wet
+blistered it in spots.
+
+"Please don't be mad if I worry a little for fear Elly Precious will
+throw off his cloes. He's a dreadfull throw-offer, so we pin his sides
+to the cloesbasket but maybe you don't sleep him in a cloesbasket. I
+couldent sleep last night.
+
+"P.S. With safety pins."
+
+Sometimes they were cheerful little letters that peeped under the tight
+crack. Evangeline wrote the news to Elly Precious. That Stefana's washes
+came easier now and Carruthers was good all the time, only they never
+let him be steam whistles, of course. That they all missed Elly Precious
+and hoped that they'd be short measles and, mercy gracious, yes, they
+loved him, and Aunt Sarah was knitting again.
+
+As the baby began to convalesce (they were short measles) and could sit
+up on Miss Theodosia's lap in front of the window, Evangeline's most
+important assistance began. For Elly Precious had very restless
+occasions and even Miss Theodosia's new skill failed always to
+"distrack" him.
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the biggest-paned,
+lowest-silled window, where vision was least obscured from within. On
+that stage she danced wild, long dances, varying with each performance.
+It was amazing how she varied them--sometimes bending and bowing
+tirelessly, sometimes evolving remarkable skirt dances from legs and
+toes and whirling petticoats. She grimaced unweariedly as long as Elly
+Precious would laugh at her faces. When he tired of those, she
+impersonated a cow--a horse--and made cow-noises and horse-noises at
+the top of her voice, to carry to Elly Precious.
+
+Day after day she came, and they watched her from the big-paned
+window--the baby and Miss Theodosia. It was a great help to the measles.
+
+"I never saw such a child!" Miss Theodosia said to the Reformed Doctor.
+"She never gets tired of doing it."
+
+"Never was but one Evangeline--but she gets tired all right. Needn't
+tell me!"
+
+"Then it's--love," Miss Theodosia said gently.
+
+"It is," nodded he.
+
+They had proceeded far in their acquaintance. Elly Precious had been so
+tiny a thing between them, as they ministered to him! It was not to be
+wondered at that they had drawn closer. After his professional "call,"
+John Bradford fell into the way of lingering till she brought him tea.
+
+"Talk about women loving tea!" she gibed gayly.
+
+"Talk about it being the men that want three lumps!"
+
+"That is queer, isn't it? We're the wrong way about; I like mine sweet
+and you don't want any sugar. We're the exceptions that prove the rule.
+If you'll hold Elly Precious a minute, I'll fill your cup."
+
+"That will make three."
+
+"'And I'll do it again, if you like--and again if you like!'" she
+quoted.
+
+"Are you making stories now?" she asked him that day.
+
+And he nodded gravely, "One--a love-story."
+
+"Tell me about it! We want to hear it, don't we, Elly Precious? We love
+love-stories."
+
+"Not yet. Not till it is a little farther along." He set the third cup
+down untasted. His face, as Miss Theodosia looked smilingly at it across
+the baby's head, had grown grave. She wondered simply. Miss Theodosia
+was not making a love-story.
+
+"Will you tell us about it when it's farther along? About the heroine
+and how she likes being in a love-story? Mercy gracious, it must be
+exciting!"
+
+"If I can find out how she likes it," was his enigmatic answer. "She may
+not work out as I want her to. Heroines are women, you know."
+
+"Well, of all things! If you can't make your heroine behave, I don't see
+who can!"
+
+"I don't," he said slowly. "But I shall do my best."
+
+Another day, she had something to show him, and she made a little
+mystery of it at first. She and Elly Precious knew! It was something
+sweet--it could be worn, but you seldom looked at it. It was soft and
+hard, too. You could--kiss it! When it was empty you wanted to kiss it,
+and when it was full you had to!
+
+"Show it to me!" he commanded; "think I can guess all that?"
+
+She brought it and laid it in his hands, delighted like a girl.
+
+"Feel of it--isn't it soft? And I never made one before, so it was hard!
+You seldom look at it, because it's worn in the dark. You'd like to kiss
+it now, it's so sweet, but when I put Elly Precious into it, you'll
+_have_ to kiss it! There, didn't I tell you right?"
+
+It was a little nightgown she had made for Elly Precious. He held it on
+his two big hands like something wonderful. Its little sleeves dangled
+over, and she caught one of them and squeezed it in a sort of soft
+ecstasy.
+
+"It's so little!" she cried in a whisper. "Aren't you going to kiss it?"
+
+"If you'll look away--I'm afraid to when you're looking."
+
+"I won't look," she laughed. "You look, Elly Precious!"
+
+The bath-times were the pleasantest to Miss Theodosia. Getting things
+together--little tub and powders and soaps and the fresh little
+clothes--was a beautiful beginning, and after that--after that, the
+deluge! The practice she had had washing that little ancient baby, in
+her former incarnation, stood Miss Theodosia in good stead! As she had
+bathed and rubbed and powdered her first baby eons ago, she bathed and
+rubbed and powdered this second one now. For she called Elly Precious
+her baby. That was their beautiful play.
+
+"We'll keep it a secret, won't we?--just between you and me, dear! We
+won't even tell Evangeline that you're my darlin' dear," she crooned
+over this second baby. Elly Precious played the game; he was a little
+sport, was Elly Precious.
+
+The morning after the little new-nightgown episode, the bath progressed
+thrillingly. That was, it seemed, the morning set by Elly Precious to
+give this new mother a glorious surprise. It could not be said that he
+had it up his little sleeve, being innocent of any manner of garment,
+but he had it prepared.
+
+Miss Theodosia dried the tiny body and set it far forward on her knees,
+facing her, and began as usual:
+
+"Now, baby, watch--watch hard! Make exactly the same noise I do." She
+put her lips in position for clear enunciation.
+
+"Mam--m-ma."
+
+Customarily, Elly Precious sat and chuckled gleefully and nakedly. This
+was a favorite play. But, oh, to-day--
+
+"Mum--mum," said Elly Precious distinctly. Miss Theodosia caught him to
+her, slippery and sweet, with a cry of rapture.
+
+"You said it! You said it, Elly Precious--darlin' dear! Now I shall wrap
+you in a beautiful soft blanket and sing you a jiggy tune! Before I
+dress you in horrid, bothery sleeves, we'll rock, and rock, you and
+make-believe mum-mum!"
+
+The big chair creaked delightsomely to the ears of Elly Precious. To its
+accompaniment sang Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Darlin' Dear! Darlin' Dear, Mum-Mum's here--oh, Elly Precious, I shall
+send you to college! Of course, to college. You shall be a doctor--" Was
+that the chair creaking, or a door? It was a door. On the doorsill stood
+the Reformed Doctor, gazing in. The blanket had slipped away and it was
+a beautiful, bare Elly Precious in Miss Theodosia's arms, against her
+breast. The little picture stood out, distinct. But so soon it faded.
+She was on her feet and facing that treacherous doorway. Flames burned
+on her cheeks.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of to pretend he is my baby! Well, I've
+done it--I'm pretending now. We were having a beautiful time till--"
+
+"Till I came."
+
+"Till you came. You heard what I said about making a doctor of him, I
+suppose?"
+
+He nodded. "I heard," he said meekly.
+
+"But you didn't give me time to say it all. I was going to say he'd stay
+a doctor and not reform!" With which Parthian shot, delivered with
+spirit, Miss Theodosia turned her back and Elly Precious' back to the
+intruder. What was left for him to do but retire, vanquished and
+diminished? The business of the bath went on, but joyless now. There was
+no further putting off of the horrid, bothery sleeves that Elly Precious
+abhorred. He set up indignant wails, and Miss Theodosia's soul wailed in
+unison.
+
+"All our dear good time spoiled! We're not pretending any more; you're
+Evangeline's darlin' dear. I'll put you on the bed and give you your
+bottle." So abruptly had the beautiful game come to an end. Miss
+Theodosia went away to prepare the bottle. As she went, a glint of white
+underneath the door to out-of-doors caught her attention. Evangeline had
+not tucked it under as far as usual. Perhaps it was not unnatural,
+considering her new mood, that Miss Theodosia picked up the little
+letter almost impatiently.
+
+"He says he can come home day after to-morrow if he don't colapse, so
+Stefana is cleaning the house and I'm helping and we can't hardly wait.
+We've got a new cloesbasket Stefana's going to make bows for the
+handles, tell Elly Precious.
+
+"P. S. Pink bows."
+
+Miss Theodosia was not impatient as she folded the little letter again.
+Tears stood in her eyes. She hurried back, bottleless, to Elly Precious,
+to tell him. That he had fallen asleep made no difference.
+
+"You are going home day after to-morrow! Dream it in a little dream,
+dear. When you wake up, it will be true. They can't hardly wait and
+there's a new 'cloesbasket' with bows--P. S., pink bows. Oh, Elly
+Precious, you know you're glad to go home! You've been pretending, too!"
+Game little Elly Precious, to pretend! She stooped and kissed his eyes,
+close shut in that dream of going home. "They are cleaning the house,"
+she whispered, "they can't hardly wait."
+
+A prescience of awful loneliness swept over her. She saw Theodosia
+Baxter--lone and babyless again--set back in her empty house. The
+curtain had gone down--would go down day after to-morrow--on the last
+beautiful act.
+
+"But I have two days left! I demand my pound--fifteen little pounds of
+flesh!" Elly Precious' little pink flesh. She would play that last act
+of the little game of make-believe. Intruders or no intruders, she would
+play it! At once, she began again where they had left off.
+
+"You will have to go to college very young, dear," she said. "They are
+going to take you away from me day after tomorrow. A day and a half is
+such a little college course; you'd be such a little Freshman, Elly
+Precious! So we will have to give it up, dear. We'll just spend our last
+days together. Who wants to know Latin and Greek anyway? I'll teach you
+to pat little cakes in English!" Surely, surely she must have taught her
+first baby to pat-a-cake. The blundering little hands in hers felt
+strangely familiar. The first baby had been just as funny and sweet as
+Elly Precious at that little lesson.
+
+"If I only had a little more time!" sighed Miss Theodosia. "There is so
+much left for us to do; it is cruel to hurry us so! We might--we might
+run away, dear! You and I. To Europe and Asia and Africa! I'd show you
+all the wonders of the world. Listen, Elly Precious,--the _pyramids_!
+Wouldn't you love to see the pyramids? You could play in the warm sand,
+anyway,--bury your little twelve toes deep! We would keep watch all the
+time and _run_ when we saw Evangeline coming. We would never stop to put
+on our shoes and stock--Elly Precious, you've gone to sleep!" So little
+was he thrilled at the prospect of pyramids.
+
+Miss Theodosia rocked him gently in her arms. Perhaps she would rock him
+the whole day and a half--they could not prevent her! She would not stop
+rocking if twenty Reformed Doctors came and looked at her. She would
+rock in their faces!
+
+A sudden and queer thought came to her of Cornelia Dunlap standing in
+the doorway, looking in as John Bradford had done.
+
+She saw the wreck of Cornelia's plump calm--Cornelia's wide-eyed
+amazement. After she had reluctantly deposited the small, limp body upon
+the couch to finish out the nap, she got her writing materials and wrote
+to Cornelia Dunlap, with a whimsical little smile playing about her
+lips. Her pen moved fast across the sheet.
+
+"The baby is having a beautiful nap. While he is asleep, I can write to
+you. Of course my time is limited--'what with' scalding and filling
+bottles and giving little baths--Cornelia Dunlap, go and get a little
+baby and wash him! In a tub, with your sleeves rolled up. Let him splash
+the water into your face--over your dress--hear him laugh! Give him the
+soap for a little ship a-sailing. Oh, Cornelia, teach him to pat-a-cake!
+Get a baby with the measles if there's no other way. You will love him
+in between all his little measles. But, listen to me; _take this
+advice_: Don't let them take him back! Hold on to both his little hands.
+Run away to Africa with him if there is no other way--he will love to
+play in the sand beside the pyramids. Send him to college, Cornelia, and
+I think--yes, make a doctor of him. Doctors are best.
+
+"Morituri salutamus--we who are about to lose our babies and die wish
+you happiness with yours, is the free translation. _Hold on to yours_.
+He is a dear, I know. He may be as dear as mine, but he hasn't twelve
+toes!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+It was the two days later and it was Evangeline. The child's radiant
+face lighted up the room.
+
+"He let me come! I promised Stefana I wouldn't kiss him till I got him
+home so's she could, too. He said to kiss his neck or behind his ears."
+As usual no confusion of personal pronouns troubled Evangeline.
+
+"Mercy gracious!--oh, mercy gracious, he's improved! He's fatter! I
+never thought measles'd be fattenin'! You're glad to see me, aren't you,
+darlin' dear? I'm Evangeline! I've come to take you home. We've got
+everything ready, only one bow, an' Stefana's piecin' that. Oh--my
+darlin' dear!"
+
+The curtain had gone down. Theodosia Baxter stood quite alone in her big
+room. In her ears was suddenly the shriek of a steam whistle of welcome;
+it died away, and the silence ached. A crumpled something half under a
+chair caught her eye and she openly sobbed. It was a forgotten little
+nightgown.
+
+"I'm going to Rome--I'm going to Paris--to Anywhere! I can't stand
+this!" she wailed. And then the creak of a door again.
+
+He stood on the door-sill looking in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+"I've done it again!" came from the doorway repentantly, "but this time
+I knocked, honest to goodness. Regular bangs! You ought to have heard,"
+his tone assuming an injured cadence.
+
+Miss Theodosia had recovered herself. She was unfeignedly glad to see
+him this time.
+
+"Maybe it was you, steam-whistling," she laughed. "I heard that! Oh, I
+am glad enough you came this time! You've saved me from a trip to
+Rome--tea is so much less expensive! I'll go and get it." She was off
+directly and back again in remarkably quick time with her little kettle
+and lamp. "Less time and fuss, too. See how little baggage! Now, Rome--"
+
+"Don't mention Rome!" There was a deep note in John Bradford's voice. He
+watched her making the tea. Miss Theodosia's hands were worth watching.
+
+"Speaking of steam whistles reminds me of ears," he said.
+
+"Naturally! The two go together, all right!" But she saw that his face
+remained grave. "Oh!--you mean the steam-whistler's ears--I see."
+
+"Yes, I have examined them rather carefully. They aren't hopeless little
+ears--not hopeless. I'm not ready to go any farther than that yet. But I
+intend--you see, I specialized in ears and a few other things at the
+University--in practice, too, before--before I reformed."
+
+Quickly Miss Theodosia looked up.
+
+"There! You are harking back; please don't hark back! It was mean in me
+to say it. I'm sorry! If I'd sent Elly Precious to college--while he was
+my baby--and given him a doctor's degree, he could have taken it or left
+it. He'd have had a right. Men have rights to their own lives."
+
+"Sure," but John Bradford's tone was thoughtful rather than emphatic.
+"Still--I sometimes wonder--"
+
+"Why?--tell me why!" Now she was championing the Reformed Doctor! "You
+could do as you pleased, couldn't you? It was your own life you were
+'reforming.' Still, I wonder, too. Tell me how it happened."
+
+"How do I know how it happened?" He was walking up and down the room.
+"It was in my blood to write stories. I wrote them every chance I could
+get. Had to write them. I suppose I woke up to the rather decent
+conclusion that a man can't serve two masters and serve them well. Isn't
+efficient. So I chose my favorite master. There you have it in a
+nutshell. May I have mine in a teacup?"
+
+She filled the dainty shell, but it rattled a little on its saucer. Miss
+Theodosia felt about for less moving things; she was strangely moved.
+
+"How is the love story getting on?" she asked.
+
+"The--oh! Well, it had a setback awhile ago. Setbacks are not good for
+love stories. But I shall go to work on it again."
+
+"At once--to-day?" What was this sudden freak of hers to drive him to
+work?--the work she had all but derided before.
+
+"To-day. I'm working on it now--that is--er--"
+
+"Before and after--tea," she smiled. "Well, I shall help you all I can
+on that story. I feel in a penitent mood. When you begin on it again--"
+
+"I've begun on it again."
+
+"After you go home, I mean. When you go to work again, make believe I'm
+David Copperfield's Dora--holding the pens!" Too late she saw her error
+and hedged. "Or cups of tea to keep up your strength."
+
+"I like pens better. If Dora were there--"
+
+"One more cup? You've only had one. The cups are no size at all. And
+while you drink it, tell me about your heroine. What have you named
+her?"
+
+"Dora," he said promptly. "You see, you've helped already."
+
+It was pleasant, drinking tea like this, with John Bradford there,
+opposite, having his second cup. A pleasant way to drink tea--with a
+John! Miss Theodosia hugged herself happily. Even the forgotten little
+nightgown on the floor failed to diminish her content. She had not
+forgotten Elly Precious; she was merely making the most of the
+ameliorations the gods offered. The kind gods. But conscience had to put
+in its pious oar.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time; I don't know whether you are or not. But
+I'm going to send you back to that love story. I hope the Recording
+Angel will give me a white mark for it, or cross out a black one. The
+goodness of me! I've been sitting here trying to strangle my conscience,
+but you see it isn't my own--it's my grandmother's conscience; you have
+to respect your grandmother's conscience. You'll have to go."
+
+"I can work on it here," he pleaded, but she shook her head mournfully.
+
+"I haven't the materials. It takes special paper, doesn't it, and pens?"
+
+"I could--er--think up my plot."
+
+"With me talking a blue streak? I should talk a blue streak; that's my
+grandmother's, too. No, you must go. How will you ever get it done, if
+you don't?"
+
+"I sha'n't if I do. Staying here is doing me good. I need to 'get up
+more strength.'"
+
+She laughed, but remembered her grandmother. "No more tea," she said
+kindly. "Conscience! But I'll tell you--you may come back after you've
+worked."
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+And for many to-morrows he came back. On one of them the talk once more
+reverted to the book that the Story Man was understood to be writing, in
+some mysterious Place of Pens and Paper.
+
+"I hope it's a regular romance," Miss Theodosia said.
+
+"Romance? What is that? Is there such a thing? There may have been
+once--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks took on faint color. She turned upon him.
+
+"Once nothing! I can't help it if that is slang; the occasion demands
+slang. Are you trying to tell me romance is dead?"
+
+He nodded. "Sterilized--Pasteurized--boiled out of us. I suppose," he
+sighed, "we are more hygienic, but we have faded in the process. It
+dulls romance to Pasteurize it."
+
+She held up a staying hand.
+
+"Please!" she said, "in words of one syllable and maybe you can convince
+me. But you can't. Do you mean to say there are no sweet, blushing girls
+left, with--with dreams?"
+
+Again his sigh. It pained him to disillusion her.
+
+"Not blushing ones. I tell you the color won't stand our modern
+sterilization process. I misdoubt the dreams, too. If they dream 'em,
+they're of independence and careers and votes; you wouldn't call those
+romantic dreams, would you? The little 'clinging vines'--" he waved them
+back into the past with a comprehensive sweep of his hand--"all gone.
+Our present-day soil is too invigorating, too stimulating. The
+young things stand up on their own roots. No more clinging. Each one
+aspires to be a spunky little tree by herself. Look at 'em and see for
+yourself--the subways and elevateds are full of 'em at the crush hours,
+nights and mornings--all glorying in their independence--their fine,
+strong, young roots. No blushing, no clinging there! Are you convinced?"
+
+"I am not," flashed Miss Theodosia gamely. "There must be one little
+dreamer of love dreams left."
+
+"Show her to me."
+
+"That isn't fair. I'm not in a way to know girls. I know just Stefana."
+
+"And Evangeline."
+
+"And Evangeline," laughed Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Is she romantic?" demanded the Story Man. And there he had Miss
+Theodosia. She had instant vision of Evangeline growing, straight and
+thrifty already, on her own small roots. It was not possible to
+visualize a blushing--a clinging little Evangeline.
+
+"She is still young," Miss Theodosia murmured. "Besides, she's one of a
+kind. There's only one Evangeline. You can't reason by only one of
+anything. The exception proves the rule."
+
+"Then you yield me Evangeline?"
+
+"Yes, you may have her on your side," conceded Miss Theodosia
+generously. It was rather in the way of a relief to shift the
+responsibility for Evangeline. Miss Theodosia suddenly bubbled into low
+laughter.
+
+"She is going to be a plumber."
+
+"Evangeline a plumber?"
+
+"Yes, because she's got to be rich, she says. She's 'sick 'n' tired' of
+being poor, and you can make such _darlin_', roary, snappy fires in a
+tin pail! Plumberin' will be fun."
+
+He laughed a little, too, enjoyingly, but returned to his arguings. Said
+he:
+
+"_Be_ a plumber, not marry one, you see. What did I tell you? Oh, you
+have no monopoly on Evangelines! The woods are full of tame Evangelines,
+anyway. You will have to come over to my side."
+
+"Not at all. I haven't given up my own side. I shall hold on a little
+while longer. I am not going to admit _yet_ that all sentiment is dead
+and buried. And, anyhow, I don't see what it's being dead or alive has
+to do with your story. I thought authors were creators. Can't you create
+a little sentiment--romance? To my order?" she added demurely.
+
+Replied the Story Man with grave eyes: "I shall do my best. We are a
+good deal at the mercy of our heroines. But I will do all that I can to
+win mine over, dear lady. Heaven knows I want to!"
+
+"Then you are on my side now; you have changed your mind!" she cried
+tauntingly. "Woman, thy name is not Fickleness, it is thy husband's
+name! Well, I am glad it is going to be my kind of a story. How did I
+know but it was to be a historical novel or a problem story--ugh! And,
+instead, you're going to make love to your heroine in the dear old
+thrilly way."
+
+He stirred in his seat, and his eyes sought his hostess. But Miss
+Theodosia's eyes were cheerfully following the infinitesimal stitches
+with which she was rimming an infinitesimal round hole in the bit of
+linen in her hand.
+
+"How far have you got?" she questioned over a new stitch.
+
+"Not very far," sadly; "I think I am a little afraid of my heroine."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Well, I think I'd take her by the ear and march her
+round to suit myself! If I wanted her to say '_yes_'--do you want her to
+say 'yes'?"
+
+Did he want her to say yes!
+
+"I'm trying to lead her up to it," he said gently. Miss Theodosia bit
+off her thread.
+
+"March her up to it, march her! You're too gentle with her. What is the
+use of being a Story Man? Might as well be a plumber like Evangeline!"
+
+It was at this moment that Evangeline appeared on the little Flagg
+horizon. They saw her coming their way, loaded as usual with Elly
+Precious. The sag of her wiry little figure on the Elly Precious side
+appealed strongly to Miss Theodosia. She dropped her foolish bit of
+linen and hurried to meet that little sag. When she came back with Elly
+Precious in her own arms, the Story Man was wandering away. He waved his
+hat to them smilingly.
+
+"Please drop him--drop Elly Precious," Evangeline said, "anywheres
+_soft_. I don't want him to distrack your mind. You play with your dolly
+an' be a darlin' dear, Elly Precious, while we talk."
+
+Very gently Evangeline subtracted Elly Precious from Miss Theodosia and
+removed him to an undisturbing distance. Then she returned and stood
+before Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Stefana was born to-morrow," Evangeline stated gravely. "You didn't
+know, of course, nor neither did I till it kind of came out. I told
+him," nodding in the direction taken by the Story Man. "We plotted up a
+hatch--I mean we hatched up a plot. He said to talk it over with you. I
+don't know what he's goin' to do, but he'll do it--he said he would. An'
+I thought--I thought--" Unwonted hesitations disturbed Evangeline's
+smooth flow of speech. She sat down suddenly.
+
+"I guess I can say it easier sittin' than I could standin'. It's some
+hard to say--it's so kind of _bareheaded_. But I don't know what else
+to do. You see, Stefana'd hear me beatin' the eggs an' stirrin', if I
+did 'em at home. An' besides, it would fall--oh, mercy gracious, I know
+it would! I thought if I could do it over here--"
+
+"Evangeline," Miss Theodosia said gently, "drop your voice at a period
+and begin all over with a capital letter. Take your time, dear."
+
+Said Evangeline with a sigh: "I'll try standin' up. I guess I kind of
+mixed you up, didn't I? You see, what I _meant_ was, could I make
+Stefana's birthday cake over here to your house where she can't hear me
+stirrin'?"
+
+"Oh, Stefana's birthday! That is why she was 'born to-morrow.'"
+
+"Yes'm, in a thunder storm. I've heard Mother tellin'. It will have to
+be a graham cake."
+
+"A--what kind of cake, Evangeline? Maybe you'd better try sitting down;
+I don't think I just understand."
+
+"No'm, no'm, I guess you wouldn't, because you probably can always 'ford
+white flour. I thought if I frosted it over real white, it would hide
+the grahamness. I've got two eggs."
+
+Understanding came to Miss Theodosia, though a little slowly. Was she
+growing stupid?
+
+"Evangeline, we'll make Stefana's cake together; we'll take turns
+'stirrin''! We'll do it over here and keep it a beautiful secret."
+
+The child was standing up now certainly, her wiry little body a-tilt
+with excitement, a-quiver with it. Evangeline's eyes shone.
+
+"Oh, I knew you would! I knew you would! You're such a _nangel!_ If you
+was a kind of folks that liked to be kissed--"
+
+The soft pink of Miss Theodosia's cheeks! She lifted her head and sat
+very still.
+
+"Come and try me, dear. Maybe I am that kind of folks." And in a little
+whirlwind of tender gratitude descended Evangeline upon her. It was a
+whole-souled kiss, the only brand possible to Evangeline.
+
+"I--I am that kind!" gasped Miss Theodosia, emerging laughing but
+tender-eyed. "Now let's begin the cake."
+
+"Oh, yes, mercy gracious, yes! I'll go get the eggs 'n' graham flour,
+an'--an' molasses. Could we sweeten it with molasses, Miss Theodosia?
+It'll take all o' my sugar for the frostin'. We are pretty used to bein'
+sweetened with molasses--"
+
+Miss Theodosia had a swift mental taste on her tongue of Stefana's
+graham birthday cake, molasses-sweet. There were her heartstrings at
+their odd little twitching again!
+
+"You won't have to go home at all, Evangeline. I've got all the
+materials--" but at sight of the child's face, a little fallen and
+troubled, she hastily appended--"except the eggs. I guess you'd better
+go home and get those."
+
+"Two!" sang Evangeline joyously, already on her way; "I've got two.
+Two's a lot of eggs, isn't it?"
+
+They mixed and beat and stirred together, and Evangeline never knew how
+many more eggs than two went into the rich golden batter. Elly Precious,
+tied for safety-first into one of Miss Theodosia's chairs, looked on
+with an interest more or less intermittent; when Evangeline's offerings
+of "teeny speckles" of toothsome batter were delayed, the interest
+flagged. The baking time was for Evangeline a period of utmost
+anxiety--there were so many direful things that might happen to
+Stefana's cake. If it fell down or burned up--
+
+"Oh!" she breathed with infinite relief when the strain was over, and
+only lovely things had happened to the cake, "I'm so happy I could sing
+if I had any vocal strings! That's queer about me, isn't it? I don't
+have any trouble with my _talkin'_ strings."
+
+"Not a bit," agreed Miss Theodosia gayly. "What makes you think you
+couldn't sing?"
+
+"Because once I tried to sing Elly Precious to sleep an' it woke him up,
+awfully up. He was scared. So I always talk him to sleep. Miss
+Theodosia, don't birthday cakes sometimes have candles round the edge of
+'em? I don't mean Stefana's, of course, but rich folks' birthday cakes."
+
+"_I_ mean Stefana's. Evangeline, we'll have thirteen candles!" but
+inwardly she was wondering if forty would not fit better round the edge
+of aged little Stefana's birthday cake. "And we'll decorate it--write
+something on the top, you know. We'll make the Story Man do it for us."
+
+Evangeline was awed into near-silence. "You mean--poetry? Mercy
+gracious, poetry!"
+
+"Something lovely," nodded Miss Theodosia a little vaguely. If it be
+poetry, the Story Man must do that part, too. A little later, when
+Evangeline had shouldered Elly Precious and departed and the Story Man
+had sauntered again into sight, she hailed him with relief. Displaying
+the snowy little cake, she explained the situation.
+
+"You must do the rest. We want a 'sentiment' on it, Evangeline and I.
+What is the use of being a literary person if you cannot inscribe a
+birthday cake?"
+
+He groaned a little, reminiscently. He remembered the autograph albums
+of his bashful youth. How much better than an autograph album was a
+frosted cake?
+
+"Something appropriate, you know," encouraged Miss Theodosia, brightly.
+"In lovely pink writing on top."
+
+"'She hath starched what she could,'" he offered tentatively.
+
+"Oh, for shame! Something nice and romantic."
+
+"But romance is dead--hold on, I beg pardon! That is not decided yet; I
+remember. You shall have your poetry, you and Evangeline. Something
+after this wise:
+
+ "'Our most esteemed Stefana,
+ May rough winds never pain her'
+
+"Do winds 'pain' people? But, to speak modestly, I call that a pretty
+neat sentiment to turn out extempo like that. 'Stefana'--you can't deny
+Stefana is a hard word to rhyme with. Now tell me a harder one!"
+
+"Evangeline--Theodosia," she murmured. Her eyes dwelt lovingly on the
+little white cake. He should not make fun of it!
+
+"I'll decorate it myself," she said, "I'll have a little pink heart on
+it--_two_ little pink hearts."
+
+"With but a single thought. Make them with but a single thought--beat
+them as one. There! I'm perfectly sober and sane now. It's a fine little
+cake, and I'm not worthy to write poetry for it. Longfellow--
+Shakespeare--Whitcomb Riley--we'll canvass them. Don't think
+I'm not respectful to Stefana's birthday."
+
+"I don't know what you call respect!" she retorted. But she knew the
+next day. She found out what he called respect. The knowledge came, as
+so much that was worth while came, through Evangeline, Elly Precious in
+its wake. They came running this time. Elly Precious' small body rolled
+and lurched with their hurry and the agitation of Evangeline's soul.
+
+"Somethin's--happened."
+
+"Give me the baby. Sit down, dear. Now."
+
+"The flower wagon brought Stefana--roses," whispered Evangeline. "In a
+long box--an' tissue paper. Oh, my mercy gracious, stopped right
+straight at our house! An' nobody dead." Evangeline's whisper rose to a
+weird little cry. The wonder of the flower wagon stopping right
+straight! And every one alive!
+
+"Stefana's countin' 'em. I guess she's counted 'em a hundred times.
+They's--thirteen! They've got the longest stems you ever _saw_! Stefana
+can't get over their stems; she said they most made her cry."
+
+For very breath Evangeline stopped. Over the little uneasy head of Elly
+Precious shone Miss Theodosia's eyes. Miss Theodosia was softly
+thrilled. The stems appealed, too, to her; she loved them long--long.
+
+"Roses, you say?" Oh, Evangeline! Birthday roses for Stefana! What
+color?"
+
+"Red--red--red," chanted Evangeline "Thirteen red roses an' thirteen
+long stems. In a pasteboard box with 'Miss Stefana Flagg' wrote on it.
+You ought to seen how Miss Stefana Flagg looked! She--she kissed the
+box. I guess now she's kissin' the roses. She never 'spected to have any
+roses till she was dead. An' then she couldn't 've kissed 'em an' cried
+at the stems," added Evangeline softly. She was suddenly a softened
+little Evangeline, curiously gentled by Stefana's sweet, red roses. Miss
+Theodosia caught her breath at the sight of the child's face and the
+thought of Stefana kissing her roses.
+
+"I wish--I wish you'd go over an' congratcherlate Stefana," whispered
+Evangeline. "She'd be so tickled. I'll keep Elly Precious ever here, an'
+Carruthers is playin' ball in a field." As though this ceremony of
+'congratcherlation' demanded quiet and privacy.
+
+And by and by Miss Theodosia went. She had a whimsical impulse to carry
+her little silver card case, but she did not yield to the whimsey. She
+did take off her little white apron and smoothe her hair. Stefana to-day
+was a person for ceremonies and respect. Oh, the kindness, the clearness
+of those long-stemmed roses! She had not thought to do it herself, but
+he--a man creature--Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender.
+
+Stefana was still sitting among her roses. They lay across her lap.
+
+"Oh! Oh, come right in, Miss Theodosia!" she cried welcomingly. "But
+please to excuse me for not getting up--I can't bear to disturb them.
+Seems as if I could sit right straight in this chair till they withered!
+I'm breathing easy so not to breathe the smell out. I never had any
+roses before."
+
+Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. She whispered a little laugh.
+
+"Seems as if I'd ought to be married while I have 'em! They're such
+beautiful roses to be married in!"
+
+And this was Stefana, their matter-of-fact, starchy little white-washer!
+This rapt, dreamy little face was Stefana's face!
+
+"Sometimes," Stefana murmured, "sometimes I've dreampt--" but Miss
+Theodosia did not quite catch what it was Stefana had sometimes
+"dreampt," but it was something sweet. Stefana a little dreamer of sweet
+dreams! One of them must have been a rose-dream, and this was that dream
+come true.
+
+The call of congratulation was a brief one. It seemed little short of
+irreverence to have seen at all that picture of Stefana rocking her
+roses in the little wooden rocker. Miss Theodosia slipped away with it
+hung on the walls of her mind--she would never take it down.
+
+John Bradford was coming along the road and she went a little way to
+meet him. Some of Stefana's radiance was in her own face.
+
+"I've found it," she announced in soft triumph.
+
+"Good!" he hazarded at random. It was always good to find things. But he
+wondered at the radiance.
+
+"My romance that I knew was somewhere. I've found it! I told you so!"
+
+"Found it where?" he demanded. He was unconsciously stirred by her
+emotion. He followed her glance to the little House of Flaggs.
+"Not--there?"
+
+"Yes, there. Stefana is dreaming it over a lapful of red roses. I have
+been there and seen her. Is romance dead--is it? Go and look at
+Stefana!" But she held him back from going. "No, no, I didn't mean it!
+Not in cold blood--I didn't go in cold blood. You will have to take my
+word for it."
+
+"I will take your word."
+
+"That romance is not dead?"
+
+"That romance is alive. But who would have thought of it's being
+_Stefana_!"
+
+"Who would have thought!" echoed Miss Theodosia.
+
+Elly Precious was fretting restlessly when she got back. The children
+were on the porch.
+
+"Nothing's the matter with him," Evangeline explained, "unless it's
+because he's a-goin' to be taken. I told him he was. It is kind of
+scaring to be taken. I feel kind of that way, too."
+
+"Taken where?"
+
+"Not any where--just _taken_. His picture an' mine an'
+Carruthers'--we're all goin' to be taken now, pretty soon. I must go
+home an' prink Elly Precious an' Carruthers. You see, Mr. Bradford
+promised to take Stefana because it's her birthday, an' first we knew he
+said he'd take all o' us! He's got a camera. That's him now! I guess
+he's waitin' for Elly Precious an' me."
+
+She was hurrying away, but bethought herself of something. "The cake!"
+she said. "If Elly Precious'll be still, I can carry it on my other arm.
+Maybe we'll be so busy being taken that I can't come over again before
+supper."
+
+"Run along," Miss Theodosia said; "I'll take it over. I haven't quite
+got it ready yet," for there were the two little pink hearts to
+add,--Stefana's heart and a little dream-heart. She smiled tenderly over
+the fashioning of those little pink hearts. Miss Theodosia was not an
+artist--they wavered and leaned, but they leaned toward each other!
+Perhaps they were better to be little leaning hearts.
+
+She carried the cake over, covered with a napkin. There were other
+things, too, that she had prepared, and several trips were necessary. A
+mold of quivering, scarlet jelly, full of fascinating glints of light;
+scalloped, currant-rich cookies, a little platter of cold chicken--Miss
+Theodosia carried them all over covered with napkins.
+
+Evangeline was putting the finishing touches to the supper-table, which
+was brave with the best Flagg dishes. It was rather a pitiful little
+bravery, but satisfying to Evangeline. She hurried Miss Theodosia aside
+and talked very fast.
+
+"I've sent Stefana out with Elly Precious. We're goin' to blind her an'
+lead her in an' count one--two--_look_! She'll see the cake the very
+quickest thing! She won't cut off an inch o' the stems, so they're kind
+of tall up 'n' down, you see. I mean the roses. I've put a corset steel
+o' Mother's in an' kind of tied 'em to it. I hope you don't see any
+corset steel."
+
+"No." Miss Theodosia looked not at the centerpiece of roses but at the
+cake, the tremulous jelly, the platter,--anywhere else. "No, I don't see
+any, dear."
+
+"It's perfectly lovely, isn't it? Mercy gracious--oh, mercy gracious!
+It'll _dazzle_ Stefana. An' most every speck you did, Miss Theodosia.
+Won't you please stay? Won't you _please_ to please?"
+
+"No," for the sixth time persisted Miss Theodosia. "I'm going before
+Stefana gets back. This is a Flagg celebration, dear. Just little
+Flaggs."
+
+Evangeline drew a long breath. Then little twinkles lighted in her eyes.
+
+"Well," she said, "they'll be star-spangled Flaggs to-night!"
+
+She followed Miss Theodosia to the door. Even then she could not stop
+talking. Her excited little voice followed Miss Theodosia home.
+
+"He took us! He's blue-printing us to see if we wiggled. Elly Precious
+did--mercy gracious! But maybe one of him, just one, didn't. He's goin'
+to make reg'lar black an' white pictures of the unwiggled ones. I guess
+you'll be surprised when you see us!" She was surprised. John Bradford
+brought the little blue pictures to her the next day. They bent over
+them together.
+
+"Oh!" Miss Theodosia uttered softly, for the pictures were instantly
+tangled in her heartstrings. She could hardly bear the one unwiggled one
+of Elly Precious. He was draped in tall red roses; they covered his
+little body and trailed their stems about his outspread legs. He had the
+effect of peeping at Miss Theodosia through roses. But what she could
+see of him was Elly Precious--her baby.
+
+"Stefana posed him," the Story Man said, smilingly. "And Evangeline and
+Carruthers, too. Look at Evangeline."
+
+Across Evangeline trailed the roses. It was a rigid, terribly rigid,
+Evangeline, but the roses saved her. Some softening grace emanated from
+them and touched the solemn little face. A little more of Evangeline
+than of Elly Precious peeped from behind them.
+
+"Carruthers!--et, tu, Carruthers!" murmured Miss Theodosia. For here
+again was the trail of the roses. Stefana had "posed" them in all the
+little pictures. The effect of a rose-draped Carruthers was almost
+startling. He gazed from behind them stolidly, unsmiling and
+unhappy-souled. Carruthers did not enjoy being taken.
+
+"Now look at Stefana," John Bradford said. This was his special
+exhibit--exhibit S. He watched Miss Theodosia's face as she glanced at
+the little blue print.
+
+No roses trailing there. Just a radiant-faced Stefana gazing at Miss
+Theodosia. It was the same face that hung on the walls of her memory.
+Miss Theodosia had the sense of roses there, out of sight; it was as if
+Stefana rocked them gently in her lap.
+
+"She wouldn't wear the flowers herself," the Story Man was saying;
+"Neither Evangeline nor I could make her. Queer little freak."
+
+"She is wearing them!" smiled Miss Theodosia, "I can see them. It's only
+because you are a man that you can't see,--you and Evangeline! Look at
+the roses in Stefana's eyes--in her soul--"
+
+"Oh, you woman! Women are curious things."
+
+"Women are romantic things--oh, you man! Why should you understand us
+Stefanas with your unsentimental soul-of-a-man? What do you know about
+our dreams?" She had not meant to say quite that. "Stefana's dreams,"
+she corrected herself. "What do you know about them? And still--"
+
+Miss Theodosia looked up from the radiant little face of Stefana with
+her dream-roses to the man-face beside her own.
+
+"And still--you sent the roses," she said softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+A letter came to Miss Theodosia one day. Queer how disturbing a letter
+could be when for so long peace had enveloped her travel-worn spirit,
+though it might have been because of the peace that she was disturbed.
+Ordinarily a letter from Cornelia Dunlap was the forerunner of
+interesting events to break the monotony of life. But life was not
+monotonous now, and it presented interesting events without the
+intervention--mentally and unkindly Miss Theodosia termed it
+interference--of Cornelia Dunlap.
+
+"Why need Cornelia write me now, or if she does write, why can't she
+talk about mushrooms?" which were Cornelia's most recent palliative to
+her self-imposed and brief sojourns in her little home town. It had been
+cats when she and Miss Theodosia returned from Spain, Belgian hares
+after their long stay in Egypt. Miss Theodosia herself had never tried
+mushrooms nor Belgian hares. She had borne her short homecomings
+unpalliated, and had flitted again relievedly. Usually she and Cornelia
+Dunlap had flitted together. They had formed the flitting habit when
+family bereavements had left them both lonely women.
+
+"Why must she write about Japan?" sighed Miss Theodosia now, over the
+disturbing letter. "What do I care about Japan?" Yet she always had
+cared about Japan. Cornelia Dunlap and she had left that delectable
+country of cherry blossoms and quaint, kimona-ed women for their old
+age, they said, to help them bear it. But Cornelia had forgotten that.
+
+"Let's go to Japan," she wrote. "I can pack in twenty-four hours; how
+long will it take you? We'll stay there till cherry blossom time.
+Frankly, Theodosia Baxter, I am bored, and you needn't tell me that you
+aren't--frankly--too. You haven't even mushrooms (they didn't earn their
+own living, my dear. I don't know what the trouble was). 'My native
+country, thee,'--I love it. I tell you I do! You know yourself that I
+never stay overnight in a place without unfurling my country's flag.
+Remember in sunny Italy?--the little brown bambino that cheered my
+colors? But I love my country best--in Japan! Come, dear, pack--pack! If
+I can leave my mushrooms, I guess you can leave your lonesome, big house
+in Nowhere."
+
+Miss Theodosia dreamed a little over her letter, of the little island of
+romance and flowers and fans. They did not need to wait; they could go
+again when they were old.
+
+She told John Bradford at their next meeting of the lure of Japan,
+though in her heart she was not lured. She was not "bored"; it was not a
+big, lonesome house in Nowhere! She would tell Cornelia Dunlap so. She
+would tell her that Flaggs were better than mushrooms--they earned their
+own living! Cornelia could run away alone to Japan to her cherry
+blossoms.
+
+But John Bradford had his scare, and through him Evangeline hers. Gloom
+settled on Evangeline. If her beloved lady was going away--the bitter,
+bitter taste of life without the beloved lady! But the inspiration that
+flashed into Evangeline's nimble mind temporarily comforted her. She set
+about its carrying-out. Inspirations were sweet morsels under
+Evangeline's tongue.
+
+To Miss Theodosia on her porch, telling Cornelia Dunlap that Japan had
+no lure, came a solemn procession across the grass. Evangeline led, with
+the effect of walking backward--though she walked straight ahead--and
+waving a baton. Stefana had Elly Precious, and Carrathers tramped
+soberly behind, in time to that imaginary wand. Miss Theodosia's
+fascinated gaze was riveted to the procession's arms. The wonder grew
+with nearness. Every individual parader in the procession wore a somber
+black arm-band. Elly Precious held his small member straight out from
+his side as if a little afraid of it.
+
+"Evangeline!" uttered Miss Theodosia. It did not occur to her to address
+any one but Evangeline. Instinctively she recognized that the procession
+was Evangeline.
+
+"Halt!" with an imaginary flourish. "Right about your faces!" Then
+Evangeline turned to Miss Theodosia and offered her sad little
+explanation.
+
+"We're in mournin'," she said. "All of us are--on our sleeves. Elly
+Precious's doesn't stay on very well."
+
+"Evangeline!" again cried Miss Theodosia, this time in a startled voice.
+Fears beset her. Was it the mother, or had poor Aunt Sarah raveled out?
+How could it have happened so suddenly--a bolt out of the clear little
+Flagg skies?
+
+"It's you," Evangeline said. Miss Theodosia settled a little in her
+chair and waited. In time--Evangeline's time--she would know. Elly
+Precious held out his rigid little mourning arm and softly whimpered.
+
+"Give him to me, Stefana; he wants to come to me," Miss Theodosia said,
+extending welcoming hands. Very gently she relieved the tension of the
+small arm.
+
+"We're in mournin' for you," Evangeline explained sadly. "_He_ said we
+might as well make up our minds, I tied a stockin' round his arm, but he
+took it off again because he said he didn't wear his stockin's--no, I
+guess it wasn't his stockin's; it was his heart--on his sleeves. But he
+said he was in mournin', too."
+
+Miss Theodosia gave it up. She appealed to Stefana in gentle despair.
+
+"You tell me, dear. What does she mean?"
+
+"We're so sorry you are going to Japan, and Evangeline said we ought to
+go into mourning, so we went," explained the quiet Stefana.
+
+"She cried; you know you did, Stefana Flagg! I would've, only I was
+gettin' the mournin' ready. I'm _goin_' to."
+
+"Don't cry!" Miss Theodosia said, though she was doing it herself. The
+pulling of her heartstrings! "Don't cry, Evangeline dear. I wish we
+could take back Stefana's tears."
+
+"You mean--you ain't goin'?"
+
+"I ain't goin'," repeated Miss Theodosia, tremulously smiling. "Japan! I
+wouldn't go to _six_ Japans!"
+
+"Then take it off o' our arms, quick! You take off Carruthers', Stefana.
+I'll undo Elly Precious's. Oh, goody! Oh, mercy gracious, I feel 's if
+we ought to take hold o' hands an'--an' _wave_!"
+
+At the end of her letter to Cornelia Dunlap Miss Theodosia wrote: "You
+can't tempt me with all your cherry blossoms. I've got home, Cornelia,
+and all my little Flaggs are waving. Come and see _my_ Flaggs."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+It was mid-September and Miss Theodosia found out-of-doors a pleasant
+place to be. She had made an errand down to the business portion of the
+little town for the sheer pleasure of the going and coming,--a morning
+errand, as the afternoons were sacred to tea,--and now was coming
+leisurely back, sniffing the sun-sweet air. She turned off the quiet,
+side street she had been using as a long way home, into the main street
+of the town, only to find her progress interrupted by unseemly and noisy
+crowds. Miss Theodosia loved all things seemly and quiet. How she
+despised a crowd, and this one--she brought up short in actual disgust
+on the outer edge of it. Thus was her stately little progress stayed.
+People surged about her and jostled her good-naturedly. She was in the
+crowd.
+
+"What is it? Has there been an accident?" she inquired of the nearest
+jostler. It was a ragged and radiant child.
+
+"Axident! Didn't ye know there was a circus? We're waitin' for the
+p'rade. I hear it! I hear it comin'!"
+
+The crowd surged ahead toward the street curb. Against her will, Miss
+Theodosia surged, too. Loud cries filled her ears--ecstatic cries of
+little children. Down the usually quiet street marched, in all its
+brilliancy of color and tinsel and tawdry splendor, the street parade.
+Horses curvetted, elephants patiently plodded, huge cars of mystery
+swung by; clowns smirked, to the riotous joy of that awful crowd.
+
+"See him sittin' tail to! That one there--there!"
+
+"Look-a that one with the spotted panth! Look at him throw kitheth!"
+
+"They's man-eatin' lions in that cage--see the lady sittin' with 'em!"
+
+"See that man top o' the band waggin that shoots up his neck
+_yards_--quick! See him shorten it again!"
+
+Miss Theodosia saw all, against her will. All her thirty-six years she
+had held aside her dainty skirts from people who went to circuses, but
+how could she hold them aside now? There was not room. She was caught in
+the swirl and noise and glee.
+
+Suddenly a familiar voice struck her ear. Evangeline's voice! Drawn up
+on the curbing in a vantage-spot that only they who come early and
+patiently wait can secure, was the entire family of little Flaggs. At a
+new angle Miss Theodosia was able to see plainly their breathless
+ecstasy. She could hear what Evangeline was saying.
+
+"Oh, isn't it elegant--oh, look, Stefana! Oh, don't you hope circuses'll
+be free in Heaven--not jus' the p'rade, but the show!"
+
+Then and there Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed unmercifully; she
+could not do anything with them; they would throb. In vain she turned
+away--looked at other faces--listened to other voices. It was Evangeline
+she heard, with her wistful cry, and the little line of Flaggs that she
+saw.
+
+"There's Miss Theodosia--there, there, Stefana! She's come to the
+p'rade!"
+
+"Miss Theodosia! Miss Theodosia! Look, Elly Precious, quick!" And it was
+Elly Precious she saw, held high by eager arms. That minute she yielded
+to the wild impulse within. She pressed forward to speaking distance.
+
+"Who will go to the show with me this afternoon? All in favor say aye."
+
+"Mercy gracious, you don't honest mean--"
+
+"Miss Theodosia!" Stefana's lean little face actually whitened.
+
+"I honest mean. Isn't anybody going to say aye?"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+The joyous chorus of "I's"! The jubilant waving of every little Flagg!
+For the moment, the gorgeous tinseled parade was forgotten in the vaster
+anticipative glories of the show. Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed
+a little louder but tunefully. She had forgotten her skirts.
+
+Shows begin early and last long. Miss Theodosia's show began at the
+opening of the gates. She and her little string of followers filed in.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Evangeline in awesome delight at the vision
+spread before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Miss Theodosia. They were different mercy
+graciouses. But a miracle was on the way to her, coming straight and
+fast through the crowds of festive circus-goers. Very soon now--in an
+hour--in another moment--It arrived! Miss Theodosia felt herself
+yielding to the lure of the sawdust and the side shows--the pink
+lemonade and the balloons. She was entering in! She was not Miss
+Theodosia who detested crowds; in the tight grip of the miracle, she was
+Miss Theodosia who thrilled and enjoyed.
+
+"Isn't it elegant? Oh, aren't you happy!" cried Evangeline.
+
+"Aren't I!" gallant Miss Theodosia responded. She caught Evangeline's
+sleeve. "What is that man shouting about--there, in front of that big
+tent?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, but it's somethin' splendid. I know it's somethin'
+splendid! I'll go 'n' see."
+
+"I'll go with you. Stefana, stay with the rest of the children. We'll be
+right back." Miss Theodosia laughed as she and Evangeline went, hand in
+hand. In a moment they were back for the rest. It was "somethin'
+splendid"--come! come!
+
+They drank pink lemonade and ate ice-cream cones. Elly Precious and
+Carruthers waved gay balloons. Evangeline chose a cane.
+
+"I need one. I'm so happy I tumble over! I never was so happy 'xcept
+when Elly Precious stopped havin' the measles. That was as splendid as
+this, but it wasn't as _splendid_ splendid. Miss Theodosia, don't you
+feel all beautiful and jiggy inside?"
+
+"All beautiful and jiggy!" nodded Miss Theodosia, wondering a little
+whether it was all circus or some pink lemonade.
+
+"I like the wholeness of it best," Stefana said, taking in the animated
+scene with an artist's eye.
+
+"I don't! I like the every little speckness of it," Evangeline chirped.
+"I like that 'normous big tent an' that tiny little one--I like that
+balloon man--I like that little darky baby--isn't he black as the ace of
+space, Miss Theodosia! Oh, I like every blade o'--sawdust!" Her laugh
+trilled out gayly.
+
+"But we haven't seen it yet--the show."
+
+"Miss Theodosia! You don't honest mean we're goin' in? Stefana, she
+does--she means! We're goin' in!" As of course they were. The best seats
+in the great tented arena were none too good for them. Stefana
+laboriously shut up Elly Precious' go-cart, and Miss Theodosia lifted
+Elly Precious in her arms. In the procession they sought those
+best-of-all seats. What followed, even Evangeline gazed upon in silence;
+there were no words in Evangeline's dictionary for what followed. She
+sat on the edge of the best-of-all seat and drank in riders and clowns
+and dizzy performing fairies--an intoxicating draught.
+
+"Miss Theodosia," in a tiny whisper.
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Ain't you glad you ain't dead? 'Cause you don't need to be." Which was
+Evangeline's way of complimenting Heaven. There was no need of dying to
+find out its marvels--not now. Miss Theodosia slipped one of the small
+hands into hers and squeezed it; squeezing established understanding.
+They knew--they understood.
+
+"Well, upon my word!" a deep voice exclaimed behind them. With one
+accord Miss Theodosia and her Flaggs wheeled about. The Tract
+Man--Shadow Man--Reformed Doctor stood there, smiling. He was eating
+popcorn from a paper bag. Transferring the bag to Evangeline, he held
+out his hands for the baby.
+
+"You here?" Miss Theodosia exclaimed stupidly.
+
+"Yes--are you?"
+
+Every one laughed. Laughing was so easy! Elly Precious from his lofty
+shoulder-post clapped small, joyous hands and crowed. In the ring a
+clown threw them kisses. A fairy in short, silvery skirts rode by on two
+horses. "Wait! Watch her--watch her!" Evangeline whispered hissingly.
+"She's goin' to jump through a hoop o' fire! Without burnin' up!"
+
+John Bradford leaned forward to Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Having a good time?" he whispered.
+
+"Grand! Are you?"
+
+"Hunkydory!" He might have been a boy, she a girl. These might have been
+little Flagg brothers--sisters.
+
+"We must have cones--ice-cream cones," he said.
+
+"We've had 'em," piped Evangeline.
+
+"We must have more cones, and cracker-jack."
+
+"We've had crackerjack."
+
+"We must have more crackerjack. Where is the Crackerjack Boy?"
+
+At the end of the show in the ring they took a vote and decided to stay
+to see it all over again. What did it matter if they had seen the tinsel
+fairy jump through her fiery hoop or the acrobats perform their wonders?
+They felt acquainted now. They were gazing, enchanted, at friends.
+
+"My clown's lookin' at me! I'm goin' to bow to him."
+
+"Mine's threw me a kiss!"
+
+Stefana, more refined in taste, had adopted a beauteous creature in gold
+and blue, and starry spangles. Her beauteous lady waved a scepter at her
+as she glided by.
+
+"She's got so many ruffles on! An' they're beau-ti-fully done up!"
+sighed Stefana in gentle envy of some unknown artist in starch.
+
+"Now what?" demanded the man of the party at length. "Anybody want to
+stay here any longer? Or shall we discover new territory?" He took
+Evangeline aside and questioned her.
+
+"Have you seen everything out there?" indicating the attractions without
+the big tent.
+
+"We've seen a nawful lot. We've had a nelegant time," Evangeline
+whispered back. Desire and loyalty to Miss Theodosia fought a duel in
+her small breast and the issue was yet doubtful.
+
+"Isn't there something left that you'd like to see?" The order was
+changed; here was man tempting woman. Desire won the duel with one
+mighty blow. Evangeline tiptoed up as near his ear as possible and
+breathed two words.
+
+John Bradford turned to the little crowd.
+
+"We'll go to see the Fat Lady," he said to Miss Theodosia; "I'll take
+the kiddies, while you sit down somewhere and rest.
+
+"Sit down somewhere? Haven't I been sitting down somewhere? Don't you
+suppose I want to see the Fat Lady, too?" laughed Miss Theodosia. Fat
+ladies appealed to her invitingly, in this remarkable mood of hers--Miss
+Theodosia's circus mood.
+
+"You're playing the game like a trump! I didn't dream you could
+'pretend' a circus was yours. Must be some harder than pretending
+babies--" John Bradford got no farther. She turned indignant eyes upon
+him.
+
+"'Game'--'pretend'--I'd have you know I'm having a nelegant time! You
+must be the Pretender."
+
+"Me? I'm having the time of my life! I am going to put a circus into my
+love story."
+
+"This circus?"
+
+"This identical one."
+
+"With me and the little Flaggs in it?"
+
+"You--and the little Flaggs."
+
+They had fallen behind the children, and a side eddy of the crowd had
+flowed between. The Fat Lady was at the further end of the grounds, but
+there was no hurry; she would remain just as fat a Fat Lady if they
+pleasantly dallied a little. Stefana had, with the deftness of
+genius-born skill, solved the puzzle of opening the folded-up go-cart,
+and the Man Person of the party was no longer burdened with Elly
+Precious.
+
+Suddenly into the pleasant dallying leaped Carruthers with terrified
+little face.
+
+"They're lost! We can't find 'em! I can't an' Stefana can't. They ain't
+anywhere! We were lookin' at a man with turkles you wind up, an' when we
+stopped lookin' they weren't there--not anywhere. They ain't anywhere!
+Not any--'
+
+"Stop him!" begged Miss Theodosia. "He'll keep right on anywhere-ing. We
+must find Stefana."
+
+"Stefana said--oh, I couldn't hear what Stefana said, but she pointed
+an' pointed, an' I came lickety. They're lost! They ain't anywhere!"
+
+Stefana appearing here, the story was repeated. Like that--Stefana
+snapped her fingers--they had disappeared.
+
+"I've hunted and hunted. Everybody's seen children with go-carts, but
+they weren't Evangeline 'n' Elly Precious."
+
+Miss Theodosia's own face was pale, but she achieved a light laugh.
+
+"No wonder you haven't found them yet! In this crowd. It takes
+time;--you tell them to be patient and we'll find the right go-cart."
+She appealed to the Man Person.
+
+"Sure, we'll find the right go-cart! Where do you think they could have
+vanished? Down a hole in the ground?"
+
+Miss Theodosia clapped her hands valiantly. "That's it! Evangeline found
+a hole and took Elly Precious down, to show him the White Rabbit and the
+Red Queen! Evangeline would love to be an Alice in Wonderland. Go and
+find the hole," to the Man Person. "I'll stay right in this spot with
+the children. See, in front of this ice-cream tent."
+
+"Good idea!--I'll bring them back with me unless you find them first."
+
+But they were not with him when he returned half an hour later. In spite
+of himself, he looked anxious.
+
+"Queer thing! What color dress did she have on? I've tried to remember."
+
+"Pink--oh, pink!" sobbed Stefana, "but it was most washed out. It had
+two tucks let down, an' it was limpy in the skirt, behind--the starch
+gave out." There were so many Evangelines, but it didn't seem as if
+there'd be another Evangeline limpy behind! "An' Elly Precious's lower
+teeth are through, and his shoes are buttoned inside, I remember now! We
+were in such a hurry--there wouldn't be another baby buttoned inside."
+
+After still further vain hunting, John Bradford sent the three home.
+
+"You may find Evangeline there, getting supper!" he said, "but I'll stay
+here on the chance you don't. I'll investigate every hole on the
+grounds! Don't anybody worry--now, mind! There's nothing to worry
+about."
+
+"Fat Lady!" Miss Theodosia suddenly exclaimed as one with inspiration.
+"We've never thought of her; that's where they've gone! Evangeline
+couldn't wait. She had some pennies."
+
+"I've investigated the Fat Lady--no good. They don't let go-carts in,
+and there weren't any outside. But, of course, I can go the whole
+figure, to make sure. I'll go all the whole figures. Can't you trust
+me?"
+
+"We can. Come, children. I'll coach you on Wonderland, so if Evangeline
+is there you'll know what she is seeing! Gryphons, Mock 'Turkles,' Mad
+Hatters--a circus within a circus! It's so much like Evangeline to find
+that White Rabbit hole!" Miss Theodosia clung determinedly to a cheerful
+view of the situation. But, secretly, she worried. As the time went on,
+she worried harder. Two babies--one wheeling the other! What was
+Evangeline but a baby?
+
+Miss Theodosia took the two little surviving Flaggs to her own home and
+plied them with goodies--many goodies. She unearthed from hiding-places
+candied ginger and guava jelly; she invented toys for the deaf little
+Flagg and occupations for Stefana. She found a dog-eared copy of
+"Alice," dear to her own childhood, and read to Stefana--anything to
+occupy the waiting. It was long waiting!
+
+It grew dark. Once Miss Theodosia heard heavy steps trying painstakingly
+to be light ones. She found the Man Person outside the door.
+
+"Nothing yet? You haven't any trace--" It was needless asking.
+
+"You don't think--"
+
+"Of course, I don't think! Nothing on earth could happen to those
+kiddies."
+
+"Automobiles--"
+
+"Aren't allowed on the grounds, and you couldn't have got Evangeline off
+the grounds with a tackle and falls. I know what I think."
+
+"Then tell it--mercy gracious!"
+
+"I think it's Evangeline that's happened. Mark my words! Now I'm going
+back again. I just came to--I suppose I thought I was coming to relieve
+your mind!" He laughed sorrily and softly.
+
+"Oh, go--yes, go! It's--it's long past Elly Precious' bedtime." He could
+hear soft sobbing as he went away. Miss Theodosia was mourning for her
+baby. The Man Person's throat tightened; he broke into a run.
+
+Stefana met Miss Theodosia at an inner door. She had her hat on and
+Carruthers by the hand.
+
+"I'm going home to put him to bed. I--I shan't look at the clothes
+basket. But if Elly Precious is dead, I'll put wh-white ribbons on the
+h-handles!" With a moan, Stefana threw herself into the kind arms of
+Elly Precious' friend who loved him, too!
+
+"Hush, dear! Elly Precious isn't dead, but I hope he is asleep.
+Evangeline, I know, will take care of him. Let's trust Evangeline."
+
+"Maybe she's dead, too!"
+
+"Stefana! I'm disappointed. I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+"I am!" sobbed Stefana, gathering herself together. Miss Theodosia
+watched her go quietly away, hand in hand with the little brother that
+was left. But Miss Theodosia was no longer brave. Sudden terrors seized
+upon her. She remembered how round and white Elly Precious was--how he
+showed the little teeth that had got through--how he had loved to watch
+Evangeline dance, through the window.
+
+"Theodosia Baxter, I'm disappointed! I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+As she stood in the moist darkness, a sound came to her--too soft for a
+man-sound. It grew a very little more distinct.
+
+"Miss Theodosia--sh! he's gettin' ready to go off. I want him to go off
+soon's I get him home--I don't want to 'xcite him. I jus' came to tell
+you--"
+
+"Evangeline! Have you got him there?"
+
+The softest of giggles. "Why, of course! He's too valuable to leave
+anywheres. Leave a Best Baby! That's the s'prise! He's a prize baby,
+Elly Precious is! I've got it in my pocket!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+"I've got to take him home an' bed him down!" Horsey little Evangeline!
+"Then I'll come back an' show it to you. Isn't it puffectly elegant that
+he took a prize! We've had the best time!" And in the darkness Miss
+Theodosia heard soft, retreating steps and the faintest creak of wheels.
+Left alone, she leaned for support on the porch pillar, overcome by the
+Evangelineness of Evangeline. And they had all had so far from the "best
+time"--they had suffered so!
+
+"Mercy gracious!" sighed Miss Theodosia weakly, but aloud.
+
+"What did I tell you?" The Man Person's voice! What kind of a ghostly
+night was this? "Didn't I say it was Evangeline that had happened, 'mark
+my words'? Well, wasn't it?"
+
+"Tell me instantly how she 'happened'! I'm all in the dark."
+
+"Same here. Can't see an inch before my nose. If we had a lamp--"
+
+"Didn't she tell you? Didn't she come home with you?"
+
+"No--no, I came home with her. Behind her--she didn't know. Wanted to
+let her do the whole thing alone. I confess I was curious."
+
+"Curious! After hunting hours and hours--"
+
+"'Curious--after--hunting--hours--and hours,'" he intoned. She could
+hear him getting ready to laugh. "The moment I caught sight of the
+little imp, I forgot I was tired. Whatever she's been up to, it's
+something interesting. May I wait and hear her tell about it?"
+
+"Of course you may! I should think you'd earned admittance." Miss
+Theodosia was sizzling gently with perfectly natural irritation. Now
+that her baby was safe, she had leisure to be irritated.
+
+"Come and rest in the easiest chair you can find. When I think--"
+
+"Don't think! Let's just have cups of tea and wait for the show to
+begin."
+
+"But why aren't you cross? I am."
+
+The man-voice in the dark was soothing.
+
+"Oh, no, you only think you are, dear lady. You are deceiving yourself.
+Crossness and--er--nerve-itis are two very different diseases (you note
+I term them both diseases). I speak as One Who Did Once Know."
+
+Miss Theodosia, on her way for cups of tea, paused in her dim doorway.
+
+"Diseases change so. In ten years--"
+
+"In ten years 'nerve-itis' has lost none of its pep--rather annexed
+more. It may have another name."
+
+"Nerve-itus Dance," murmured the voice in the doorway. "That's
+it--that's what I was having when you came. I don't think I am quite
+over the attack yet."
+
+"Three lumps of sugar dissolved in a cup of tea," prescribed the
+man-voice promptly. "Repeat the dose in five minutes. Never known to
+fail. As a preventive of--er--contagion, it is well for any also who
+have been exposed--"
+
+"I'll have it there in a minute. The kettle's boiling," called Miss
+Theodosia from interior regions. She came back presently with a tray lit
+by a tiny flare of candle-light.
+
+ "'How far that little candle throws his beams--
+ So shines a good deed in a naughty world'"
+
+quoted he. "The good deed is the good tea."
+
+"And the naughty world is Evangeline. Won't you have three lumps just
+this time, to make perfectly sure you don't contract my Nerve-itus
+Dance?"
+
+"Safety first," he laughed. "Four lumps. This is our first tea-party at
+'Candle-lighting Time,' isn't it?"
+
+Now Miss Theodosia laughed. It was easy to laugh with Elly Precious
+being bedded down instead of lost.
+
+"How you do quote to-night!" she said. "That's the third time, counting
+'Safety First,' in the last five minutes."
+
+"Pardon," he craved. "It's because I feel happy. I'm likely to quote again
+at any minute."
+
+"Well, quote the Scriptures then to Evangeline when she comes."
+
+"Hark!"
+
+She was coming now. They could hear the light, hurrying steps. Was
+Evangeline never tired? Did neither parades nor circuses--mysterious
+wanderings nor mysterious triumphs--affect her?
+
+"The show is about to begin," murmured Miss Theodosia.
+
+It began immediately. Evangeline came bursting in upon them, waving a
+blue ribbon. She was a fresh and radiant Evangeline.
+
+"Stefana says I can't stay only a minute. Stefana's kind o' mad, but she
+didn't dass to be, out loud, for fear we'd 'xcite Elly Precious. He's
+asleep. I was so proud of his arms an' legs when I undressed 'em!
+They're very high-percented arms 'n' legs. Mercy gracious, yes! Don't
+you see this ribbon's blue--blue--blue! That's because he's a Best Baby,
+an' the prize was five dollars, an' they gave him a dollar 'special,'
+too, that we're goin' to put in the bank--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up her hand.
+
+"Begin at the beginning," she commanded. "Where have you been all this
+time? What on earth have you been doing?"
+
+"Showin' Elly Precious," flashed back Evangeline brightly. "You've heard
+o' Poultry Shows? Well, this wasn't. This was a Baby Show. We never
+noticed it was advertised in the p'rade at all--a man with a sandwich
+on. A lady told me. She said the circus folks were pretty bright,
+because all o' the world loved babies an' they knew 'twould make a
+beautiful side show. She said they knew it would draw, an' it did. It
+drew me an' Elly Precious! The circus folks offered prizes. They weighed
+an' measured 'em to see which was a Best Baby, an' Elly Precious was!
+You better be proud that you--that you measled a Best Baby!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's glance met the Man Person's. The show was turning out
+well.
+
+"I've got to go back, or Stefana--oh, mercy gracious me, it was worth
+folks bein' mad! There was a nurse there an' a lovely lady an' a doctor.
+They let me stay Elly Precious's nap out, because it isn't a sleep
+go-cart. He has to sit up straight in it. The lady said to lie him down
+there an' let him sleep. But we didn't expect he'd sleep so long--the
+lady went away, but I stayed. I wasn't goin' to wake a Best Baby up out
+o' a sound sleep! It made us a little late gettin' home."
+
+"Yes, go on," murmured the Man Person feelingly.
+
+"Why, that's as far as there is to go. Then we came home."
+
+"Why didn't you go back and tell Stefana or Miss Theodosia? Where was
+your Baby Show, anyway?"
+
+"In a tent. I happened to get a peek in an' saw folks with babies, an' I
+was a folks with one, so I just went in. That's all. I was goin' to tell
+Stefana, but he cried an' I couldn't leave him. He wouldn't have took a
+prize, cryin'. I had to keep dancin' to him--mercy gracious! But it was
+worth it. Then when he'd got all measured an' weighed,--it's pretty
+wearin' work,--he went to sleep. I told you that. I had to wait for him
+to wake up." For the first time Evangeline was on the defensive; she
+read the faint disapproval in Miss Theodosia's face.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I never s'posed you'd go an' worry! I thought--I
+thought you'd jus' be pur-roud." Actually, Evangeline was crying now.
+Miss Theodosia's disapproval vanished instantly. With a sweep of her
+arms, she gathered a forgiven Evangeline in. The Man Person stood
+outside the little zone of feminine emotion, but he had his own brand.
+
+"We _are_ pur-roud," Miss Theodosia crooned over the subdued little
+figure. "It's perfectly splendid about the blue ribbon and the prize!"
+
+"An' the special."
+
+"An' the special. Think of what his mother will say! But I knew he was
+the Best Baby all the time; it was written in between every little
+measle!" And saving laughter righted the situation; Evangeline bounded
+back to her usual spirits. "Now," Miss Theodosia said, "I'll get you
+some preserved ginger and shoo you home! You mustn't stay another
+minute, or Stefana will surely be over here with a policeman."
+
+"Stefana's proud, too--she needn't pretend! I saw her kissin' Elly
+Precious's knee. But she'll scold; she thinks it's her duty. Mercy
+gracious, when Aunt Sarah knits an' Mother's back, I hope Stefana'll
+grow down again."
+
+The Man Person poised his teacup above the saucer, arrested by this new
+puzzle.
+
+"Er--grow how?"
+
+"Down. She's so terrible grown-up now. It's been pretty wearin' on my
+nerves. We use' to play dolls together. We don't ever now. She's too
+starched up."
+
+"Poor Stefana with her starch!" murmured Miss Theodosia. The poor little
+martyr to starch! It was to be hoped, indeed, that when Aunt Sarah knit,
+Stefana could grow down again and play dolls.
+
+"Do you know her mother--Evangeline's?" Miss Theodosia asked, after the
+child had gone. "Is Evangeline like her;--is that where she gets her
+Evangelineness?"
+
+"No, she must get it from the father. The mother is exactly like
+Stefana, or may be I've got it the wrong end to. I never saw the father;
+he died a few weeks before the baby was born."
+
+"Well, the father must have been remarkable; somebody is responsible for
+Evangeline. I love that child next to--my baby. Supposing--I think of it
+sometimes--supposing I had staid in Rome or Paris or Farthest
+Anyplace--not come home at all, you know,--then I should have missed it
+all. I should never have known those children."
+
+"Nor me," he ventured. She did not appear to hear, but went on musingly:
+
+"Something sent me home--I needed those children."
+
+"And me!"
+
+"I was going on a fast train--a through express--straight to Lonesome
+Land!"
+
+She laughed softly as if she were alone. "If Evangeline hadn't Flagged
+my train--it was Evangeline! She switched me off on another track."
+Miss Theodosia's tender eyes lifted and met the Man Person's with a
+little start of recognition as if saying: "Why, are you here!" But she
+met those other eyes staunchly. "I'm glad I stopped off at this Flagg
+station. I like it here."
+
+For a little the big room, bright with lamplight, was so still that the
+clock ticked impertinently. Miss Theodosia's tea cooled in its cup, and
+John Bradford had long ago forgotten his. The big hands on the
+chair-arms gripped them unconsciously. Then, suddenly, the man got to
+his feet and walked to the far end of the room. On his return he stopped
+before Miss Theodosia, looking down.
+
+"I love you," John Bradford said. The impertinent clock kept on, but
+Miss Theodosia could not hear it now for the ticking of her heart. Was
+she a frightened girl that she could not lift her eyes?
+
+"I was on that express, too--bound for that same place. I thank the Lord
+I got off here. I shall always thank Him, whether you can love me or
+not. I shall always love you. If you thought, sometime--I can wait--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's eyes lifted. But she shook her head.
+
+"I'm afraid not--sometime."
+
+He still stood, looking down. Very gently he touched her hair; she could
+hear the long breath he drew.
+
+"I was afraid so. It was too much to ask. But I had to take my chance.
+Don't be distressed, dear. I am happy, loving you. You can't deny me
+that! I've loved you ever since I found you mending my shirt. I have had
+a beautiful time loving you, and it will keep right on. But I was crazy,
+wasn't I, to think--of course you 'couldn't sometime.'"
+
+"Because I love you now," she said steadily. "I have--I have just found
+it out!"
+
+The gently stroking hand ceased its work. John Bradford caught the sweet
+face between his great palms and turned it upward to his.
+
+"Dear!" he cried. He was a boy, she a girl. Love has no age. It swept
+over them, a young sweet tide. This man--this woman. There was no one
+else in the world then.
+
+"Dear!" she whispered, matching her love-word to his, "and I never knew
+till a minute ago!"
+
+"I always knew. The shirt had no part in it! I have loved you since the
+world began and the morning stars sang! You were made for me to love;
+all these years I have been waiting for you, dear."
+
+"All these years!" she repeated a little sadly--"that reminds us. But we
+are not old! I won't be--I won't have you be! What is time, anyway?"
+
+"Nothing!" He blew it away in a whiff of scorn. "What is anything but
+that I love you and you love me? We are just born now--this is our
+birthday! May I kiss you on your birthday, dear? Will you kiss me on
+mine?"
+
+The clock must have stopped in very astonishment at this scandal of
+grown love playing young love. At any rate, there was only the sound of
+the young love in the room. The room sang with the beautiful sound of
+it.
+
+It seemed a very long time afterward that John Bradford asked his
+man-question: "When?"
+
+"When your book is written--the love story. Not till then."
+
+"It's getting on beautifully!" he pleaded. "It never will be done.
+There's going to be no end to the chapters."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Where are you now?"
+
+"The heroine has just said yes. The hero has just kissed her--he is just
+going to kiss her ag--"
+
+"Mercy--mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks flooded pink. She
+held up a staying hand.
+
+"Wait--till I get--get used to being a heroine! Am I? Was _that_ the
+love story?"
+
+"That was the love story. I have been working on it every day. Some days
+I had set-backs--when the heroine flung things in my face about reformed
+doctors, and times like that."
+
+"She took them back again, those things. She was a kind sort of a
+heroine."
+
+"She was a dear. He wanted to kiss her when she took them back, those
+things. I had all _I_ could do to keep him from it. He was a tough sort
+of a hero to work with. I had my hands full."
+
+"Did you love--did the hero love the heroine when they sat drinking cups
+of tea?"
+
+"A little harder every cup."
+
+"When they nursed the measles?"
+
+"A little more every measle."
+
+"When they went to the circus?" She drew a long, happy breath. "I like
+to have been that heroine! Dear, is it right to be as happy as this? For
+old folks, I mean--near-olds? Oughtn't we to knock on wood? Oh, I've
+just thought of Evangeline. What will Evangeline say?"
+
+"Something Evangelical," he laughed. "I hope I'll be there."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Evangeline had excitements of her own. As though prizes for Best Babies
+were not enough, a new excitement began the very next day. Two
+excitements--one on the lovely heels of the other. Evangeline, gasping
+in the joyous throes of the first-comer, raced over to Miss Theodosia,
+as she had learned to race with troubles as well as joys. All the way
+she emitted sounds approximating steam-whistles. The very nature of the
+news she was carrying suggested the sounds she made carrying it.
+
+"The elegantest thing has happened--I mean's goin' to!" She could not
+wait to get quite there, but sent her news ahead of her through the
+transmitting medium of air. Miss Theodosia, on her porch, sat dreaming
+her love's young dream--young, not old; not old!
+
+"The elegant elegantest! He's goin' to be cured! He won't be deaf o'
+hearin' any more! I mean he thinks he won't--I mean _he_--"
+
+"Sit down on the step, dear. Count ten, then start again."
+
+"Onetwothreefour--oh, I can't wait to get to ten! If your little brother
+had always been deaf o' hearin' an' a doctor looked into him with a
+spy-glass an' said I think this boy can be cured, I'm goin' to take him
+to a hospital an' have him operated when his mother is willin' if she
+gets home--I mean if she gets home when she's willin'--oh, I mean--"
+
+"Yes, dear. Sit still. I understand, and I think she will be willing
+when she gets home, don't you? Oh, Evangeline, won't we all be happy to
+have Carruthers cured of his poor little deafness o' hearing! I know the
+doctor, and he knows ears! We'll trust him, Evangeline. He will do
+everything in the world there is to be done. And we'll stay at home and
+pray."
+
+"Pray!" cried Evangeline. Her little thin face lifted to the blue
+heavens. "I've woke up right slap in the middle o' nights an' prayed:
+'Oh, Lord, that made a little children an' forgot his ears, do somethin'
+now--don't you think you'd ought to, O Lord? It don't seem fair not to.
+He ain't ever heard Elly Precious crow, nor laugh--think o' that, dear
+Lord.'" The shrill voice dropped suddenly. "But He never." Evangeline
+sighed.
+
+"Till now, dear--we hope He will now. He and the doctor who knows ears.
+I thought you were so pleased and that you were--"
+
+"Oh, yes'm, oh, I am! It was just--I was thinkin' how lovely Elly
+Precious's laugh sounds an' Carruthers not ever hearin' it. So far, I
+mean." Evangeline caught her courage again in both hands. "But he'll
+laugh 'nough more times when he can hear--I mean when Carruthers can.
+Won't it be puffectly elegant!"
+
+It was later in the same day when the second excitement struck the
+little House of Flaggs. Evangeline raced again across the separating
+green grass to Miss Theodosia. This time she went at reduced speed
+because she had Elly Precious over her shoulder. Miss Theodosia saw them
+coming and smiled.
+
+"More news! I know it is puffectly elegant by Evangeline's face. Well,
+Evangeline?"
+
+"Mercy gracious! Take him before I spill him! I'm so happy I joggle.
+She's knittin' an' she's comin' home! I mean knittin' _enough_. She said
+'my--dear--children--I--expect--to--be--home--to-morrow
+--Aunt--Sarah--is--better--an'--I--can't
+wait--to--see--you--your--mother--' Mercy gracious, when Stefana got to
+your mother, seemed as if I'd burst! We hollered it to Carruthers, an'
+he burst! An' Elly Precious knows she's comin', I know he knows. Tickle
+him an' see how pleased he is!" Without comma or semicolon, to say
+nothing of periods, Evangeline panted on. Out of breath at last, her
+voice sat down an instant, as it were, to rest. It was up again in a
+moment.
+
+"To-morrow is most to-day! It'll be to-day to-morrow! Oh, mercy gracious
+me! We're goin' to sweep under everything an' behind--every las' thing,
+under 'n' behind. She won't find a grain o' dust. An' Stefana's makin'
+starch."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" softly ejaculated Miss Theodosia.
+
+"I mean to eat in the dessert--corn-starch. We've begun to skim Elly
+Precious's bottles. You can eat thin bottles, can't you, darlin' dear,
+when Mother's comin' home? Corn-starch has to have cream on it--when
+Mother's comin' home!" She laughed joyously. All past and creamless
+corn-starches were a joke. Laughing at them was easy at this happy
+moment.
+
+"Isn't it splendid Aunt Sarah went to knittin'? Mercy gracious, I hope
+she won't--won't drop a stitch for Mother to have to stay an' pick up!"
+Evangeline's laugh trilled out once more.
+
+"Do you suppose you'd dass to cut Elly Precious's hair, Miss Theodosia,
+while I danced like everything an' made faces? Dutchy, you know, in the
+back o' his neck--he's straggly now. I'd make awful faces--"
+
+"I wouldn't 'dass,' dear," smiled Miss Theodosia. "I never could cut
+fast enough and you never could dance hard enough--we'd hurt him."
+
+"Well, she'll look at the front o' him first--never mind. We're goin' to
+put on that darlin' little ni'gown you made, for a dress--belt it in,
+you know, with a ribbon off the handle o' the clo'es-basket; Stefana's
+ironed it out. An' we're goin' to pin on his blue ribbon prize."
+
+John Bradford came that evening to sit on the porch in the soft warmth
+that autumn had borrowed from summers-to-come, with promissory note to
+pay it back when lovers were through with it. Miss Theodosia met him
+with the news.
+
+"Mustn't it be beautiful to be welcomed home like that, dear? If you
+could have seen Evangeline's little shiny face! And the way Elly
+Precious laughed--when I tickled him! And, oh, John--Do you hear me
+call you John? I thought it would be hard!"
+
+"'And, oh, John--'" he prompted, putting it yet further off by a
+kiss-length.
+
+"Oh, John, I know about Carruthers. You're going to take him away to
+cure him."
+
+"To try to cure him," John Bradford said gravely.
+
+"You'll do it, dear--you and the Lord! Evangeline and I are trusting.
+Hark, she is coming! No one else sounds like that!"
+
+"No one else gallops--canters--breaks speed limits!" he laughed. "Now
+what? More news?"
+
+The same news over again, but Evangeline saw that which momentarily
+banished it from her mind. She saw John Bradford standing behind Miss
+Theodosia's chair; she saw him stoop over it.
+
+"Mercy gracious, he kissed her!" gasped Evangeline. Something told her
+to turn and gallop back, but she could not stop in time. She was already
+at the foot of the steps. Awful embarrassment seized her--seized
+Evangeline! In the faint, reflected lamplight from within the house she
+could see the two above her looking down. Mercy gracious!
+
+"Sit down, Evangeline."
+
+"I'm s-sittin'--I _think_ I'm sittin' down." Up-standings and
+down-sittings were confused in the general dizziness of things. Perhaps
+she was standing up.
+
+"You're not sick, are you, Evangeline? You're not saying anything."
+
+Then Evangeline said something.
+
+"I--I saw him--doin' it, I mean. Mercy gracious, _what'll I do_?" For
+some inherited delicacy of instinct made of her a dreadful intruder; she
+saw herself in the shameful act. Instinctively Evangeline knew she was
+on sacred ground.
+
+"I couldn't stop, I was goin' so fast. It's too late not to see him
+doin' it; I don't know what to do."
+
+With swift, light steps Miss Theodosia was down beside her. John
+Bradford with one step was there. Evangeline looked shamefacedly up into
+their two kind faces.
+
+"I'm sorry," she whispered. For answer, John Bradford took one of Miss
+Theodosia's hands and laid it on hers. He held out one of his own.
+
+"May I have this lady to be my wedded wife, Evangeline? Will you give
+her to me?" His big voice was very tender. Evangeline looked into his
+shining eyes. The mystery of love swept through her small, sweet soul.
+She shut her eyes as if from some light too bright for them. If she were
+alone, she would say her prayers. But the tender voice was going on.
+
+"May I have her, Evangeline--will you put her hand in mine? She is very
+dear, indeed, to me." She could feel Miss Theodosia's soft hand quiver
+against her own hard little palm. Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender,
+too.
+
+Then, suddenly, inspiration came to her. She laid the soft hand in the
+big hand and looked up, smiling into John Bradford's face.
+
+"I'm willin'," she said, "if you'll honor an' obey."
+
+It was as if a silken gown enfolded Evangeline's straight little
+shoulders and they heard her say: "I pronounce thee." The strange little
+ceremony left them hushed.
+
+No one spoke again for a little space. Somewhere sleepy birds twittered,
+disturbed by rustling leaves or stealthy marauders. Somewhere a clock
+intoned distantly. A train far away rushed through the night, perhaps to
+some Lonesome Land, but they were not on it. Then John Bradford broke
+the spell. He leaned down and kissed Evangeline.
+
+A little laugh bubbled up to him. "You must've made a mistake. I'm the
+wrong one--mercy gracious!"
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+This file should be named 7msth10.txt or 7msth10.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7msth11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7msth10a.txt
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext05 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext05
+
+Or /etext04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92,
+91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+ 1 1971 July
+ 10 1991 January
+ 100 1994 January
+ 1000 1997 August
+ 1500 1998 October
+ 2000 1999 December
+ 2500 2000 December
+ 3000 2001 November
+ 4000 2001 October/November
+ 6000 2002 December*
+ 9000 2003 November*
+10000 2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+ PROJECT GUTENBERG LITERARY ARCHIVE FOUNDATION
+ 809 North 1500 West
+ Salt Lake City, UT 84116
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
+ requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+ eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
+ if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+ binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+ including any form resulting from conversion by word
+ processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+ *EITHER*:
+
+ [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+ does *not* contain characters other than those
+ intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+ (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+ be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+ author, and additional characters may be used to
+ indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+ [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+ no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+ form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+ the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+ OR
+
+ [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+ no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+ eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+ or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+ "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+ gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+ already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
+ don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
+ payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+ the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+ legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+ periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to
+ let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/old/7msth10.zip b/old/7msth10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..197fdd0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/7msth10.zip
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/8msth10.txt b/old/8msth10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ad4963
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/8msth10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4222 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+by Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell
+
+Release Date: September, 2005 [EBook #8865]
+[This file was first posted on August 16, 2003]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+BY
+
+ANNIE HAMILTON DONNELL
+
+WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
+
+WILLIAM VAN DRESSER
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of
+Stefana's patient endeavors. FRONTISPIECE.]
+
+
+
+To MY HUSBAND
+
+WHO COULD WRITE SO MUCH
+
+BETTER A BOOK AND
+
+DEDICATE IT TO
+
+ME!
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+Slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's patient
+endeavors.
+
+"We've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly"
+
+"If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into a story like
+that"
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the window
+
+
+
+
+Miss Theodosia's Heartstrings
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"_Well!"_
+
+The last utterance was Miss Theodosia Baxter's. She was a woman of few
+words at all times where few sufficed. One sufficed now. The child on
+her front porch, with a still childlier child on the small area of her
+knees, was not a creature of few words, but now extreme surprise limited
+speech. She was stricken with brevity,--stricken is the word--to match
+Miss Theodosia's.
+
+Downward, upward, each gazed into the other's surprised face. The
+childlier child, jouncing pleasantly back and forth, viewed them both
+impartially.
+
+It was the child who regarded the situation, after a moment of mental
+adjustment, as humorous. She giggled softly.
+
+"Mercy gracious! How you surprised me' 'n' Elly Precious, an' me 'n'
+Elly Precious surprised you! I don't know which was the whichest! We
+came over to be shady just once more. We didn't s'pose you would come
+home till to-morrow, did we, Elly Precious?"
+
+"I came last night," Miss Theodosia replied with crispness. She stood in
+her doorway, apparently waiting for something which--apparently--was not
+to happen. The child and Elly Precious sat on in seeming calm.
+
+"Yes'm. Of course if you hadn't come, you wouldn't be standin' there
+lookin' at Elly Precious--isn't he a darlin' dear? Wouldn't you like to
+look at his toes?"
+
+It was Miss Theodosia Baxter's turn to say "Mercy gracious!" but she did
+not say it aloud. It was her turn, too, to see a bit of humor in the
+situation on her front porch.
+
+"Not--just now," she said rather hastily. She could not remember ever to
+have seen a baby's toes. "I've no doubt they are--are excellent toes."
+The word did not satisfy her, but the suitable adjective was not at
+hand.
+
+"Mercy gracious! That's a funny way to talk about toes! Elly Precious's
+are pink as anything--an' six--yes'm! I've made consid'able money out of
+his toes. Yes," with rising pride at the sight of Miss Theodosia's
+surprise, "'leven cents, so far. I only charged Lelia Fling a cent for
+two looks, because Lelia's baby's dead. I've got three cents out o' her;
+she says five of Elly Precious's remind her of her baby's toes. Isn't it
+funny you can't make boys pay to look at babies' toes, even when they's
+such a lot? Only just girls. Stefana says it's because girls are
+ungrown-up mothers. Mercy gracious! speakin' of Stefana an' mothers,
+reminds me--"
+
+The shrill little voice stopped with a suddenness that made the woman in
+the door fear for Elly Precious; it seemed that he must be jolted from
+his narrow perch.
+
+Miss Theodosia had wandered up and down the world for three years in be
+search of something to interest her, only to come home and find it here
+upon the upper step of her own front porch. She stepped from the doorway
+and sat down in one of the wicker rockers. She had plenty of time to be
+interested; there was really no haste for unpacking and settling back
+into her little country rut.
+
+"What about 'Stefana and mothers'?" she prodded gently. A cloud had
+settled on the child's vivid little face and threatened to overshade the
+childlier child, as well. "I suppose 'Stefana' is a Spanish person,
+isn't she?" The name had a definitely foreign sound.
+
+"Oh, no'm--just a United States. We're all United States. Mother named
+her; we've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly. Mother hated to
+call him Elihu, but there was Grandfather gettin' older an' older all
+the time, an' she dassen't wait till the next one. She put it off an'
+off with the other boys, Carruthers an' Gilpatrick--he's dead. She just
+couldn't name any of 'em Elihu, till Grandfather scared her, gettin' so
+old. She was afraid there wouldn't be time, an' there wasn't any to
+spare. Grandfather's dead now--she's thankful enough she didn't wait any
+longer. He was so pleased. He said be could depart this life easier,
+leavin' an Elihu Flagg behind him. An', anyway, Mother says Elly can
+call himself his middle name, if he'd ruther, when he's twenty-one--his
+middle name's Launcelot."
+
+Elihu Launcelot, at this juncture, toppled over against the little flat
+breast of his nurse, asleep--or in a swoon; Miss Theodosia had her
+fears. There seemed sufficient swooning cause.
+
+"Stefana," she prompted again, her interest advancing at a rapid pace,
+"and mothers--"
+
+"Stefana's our oldest. She's goin' to run us while Mother's away. She's
+got a job before her! All I can do is 'tend Elly Precious--we're all
+boys, but us. But, of course, runnin' the family isn't the real
+trouble--not what made Mother cry."
+
+Miss Theodosia sat forward in her chair.
+
+"What made Mother cry?" she asked. The child shifted her heavy burden
+the better to turn her head. She regarded the beautiful white lady
+gloomily.
+
+"You," she stated briefly.
+
+This time Miss Theodosia said it aloud and with a surprising ease, as if
+of long custom--"Mercy gracious!"
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean you're to blame; you can't help Aunt Sarah tumblin'
+down the cellar stairs an' Mother not bein' able to do you up."
+
+"Do me--up?"
+
+"Yes'm--white-wash you. Mother was sure you'd let her, an' we were goin'
+to send Carruthers to a deaf 'n' dumb school after you'd wore white
+clo'es enough. He isn't dumb, but he's deaf. He can't hear Elly Precious
+laugh--only yell. Mother heard that you always wore white dresses an'
+she most hugged herself--she hugged us. She said you'd prob'ly find out
+what a good white-washer she was an' let her white-wash you. But, now,
+Aunt Sarah's went an' fell down cellar."
+
+"Whitewash--whitewash?" queried Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Yes'm, you didn't think Mother was a washwoman, did you? Of course she
+could, but it doesn't pay's well. She only whitewashes--white clo'es,
+you know, dresses an' shirtwaists. She says it's her talent that the
+Lord's gave her, an' she's goin' to make it gain ten talents for
+Carruthers. But Aunt Sarah--"
+
+"Never mind Aunt Sarah. Unless--do you mean your mother has had to go
+away from home?"
+
+"Yes'm, to see to Aunt Sarah. They were twins when they were babies.
+Mother cried, because she said of course you'd have to be done up while
+she was gone, an' so she'd lost you. She said you'd been her bacon light
+ever since she heard you was comin' home an' wore so many white clo'es."
+
+The garrulous little voice might have run on indefinitely but for the
+abrupt appearance, here, of a slender girl in an all-enwrapping gingham
+apron. She came hurrying up Miss Theodosia's front walk.
+
+"Well, Evangeline Flagg, I hope you're blushing crimson scarlet
+red--helping yourself to folks's doorsteps that's got back from Europe!
+I hope--" but the newcomer got no further, for, quite suddenly, she
+found herself blushing crimson scarlet red, in the grip of a
+disconcerting thought.
+
+"I suppose it's just as bad to help yourself to doorsteps when folks
+aren't here as when they are," she said slowly, "but you mustn't blame
+Mother. She'd never've allowed Evangeline and Elly, if we'd had a single
+sol-i-ta-ry tree. Or been on the shady side. Or had a porch. Elly's been
+pindly, and Mother felt obliged to save his life. It's been terribly
+hot. Here, Evangeline Flagg, you give Elly here, an' you run home an'
+keep the soup-kettle from burning on. Don't you wait until it smells!
+I've got an errand to do here."
+
+The child, Evangeline, relinquished her burden and turned slowly away.
+But she halted at the foot of the steps.
+
+"This is Stefana," she introduced politely. "Stefana, you ain't _goin'
+to_? You look 'xactly as if you was. Mercy gracious!"
+
+[Illustration: "We've all got beautiful names except poor Elly."]
+
+"Yes," Stefana returned gravely, "I am. Now, you go. Remember the soup!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's interested gaze left the retreating little figure and
+came back to Stefana and Elly Precious. She was pleasantly aware of her
+own immaculate daintiness in her crisp white dress. Only Theodosia
+Baxter would have dreamed of arraying herself in white to unpack and
+settle. Her friends declared she made a fetich of her white raiment; it
+was a well-known fact among them that she was extremely "fussy" about
+its laundering.
+
+"One, two, three," counted the slender girl, over the baby's bald little
+head, "only three tucks, an' the lace not terribly full on the edges.
+I'm thankful there aren't any ruffles, but, there, I suppose there are
+on some o' the others, aren't there? I'll have to manage the ruffles. I
+mean, if--oh, I mean, won't you please let me do you up? Just till Aunt
+Sarah's bone knits--so to save you for Mother? I'll try so hard! If I
+don't, Charlotte Lovell will--she's the only other one. She's a
+beautiful washer and ironer, but none of her children are deaf, and she
+hasn't any, anyway. I didn't dare to come over and ask you, but I kept
+thinking of poor Mother and how she's been 'lotting on earning all that
+money. There, I've asked you--please don't answer till I've counted ten.
+When we were little, Mother always said for us to; it was safer. One,
+two, three--" she counted rapidly, then swung about facing Miss
+Theodosia. "You can say 'no,' now," she said, with a difficult little
+smile.
+
+Miss Theodosia had been, in a way, counting ten herself. She had had
+time to remember her very strict injunctions to those to whom she
+entrusted her beloved white gowns--to pull out the lace with careful
+fingers, not to iron it; to iron embroidered portions over many
+thicknesses of flannel, and never, never, never on the right side; to
+starch the dresses just enough and not too much. All these thoughts
+flashed through her mind while Stefana counted ten. But it was without
+accompaniment of injunctions that Miss Theodosia answered on that
+wistful little stroke of ten. In her soul she felt the futility of
+injunctions.
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Theodosia.
+
+Stefana whirled, at the risk of Elihu Launcelot.
+
+"Oh--oh, what? You mean I can do you up, honest? Starch you, and iron
+you, too--of course, I could wash you. Oh, if I could drop Elly Precious
+I'd get right up and dance!"
+
+"Give Elly Precious to me, and go ahead, my dear," said the White Lady
+with a smile.
+
+But Stefana shook her head. She was covertly studying the white dress
+once more. It was very white--she could detect no promising spots or
+creases, and she drew a sigh even in the midst of her rejoicing. If a
+person only sat on porches, in chairs, how often did white dresses need
+doing up? Miss Theodosia interpreted the sigh and look.
+
+"Oh, I've three of them rolled up in my trunk; aren't three enough to
+begin on? And shirtwaists--I'm sure I don't know how many of those. I'll
+go and get them now."
+
+In the hall she stopped at the mirror, jibing at the image confronting
+her. "You've done it this time, Theodosia Baxter! When you can't bear a
+wrinkle! But, there, don't look so scared--daughters inherit their
+mothers' talents, plenty of times. And you need only try it once, of
+course."
+
+After Stefana had gone away, doubly laden with clothes and bulky baby,
+Miss Theodosia remained on her porch. She found herself leaning over and
+parting her porch-vines, to get a glimpse of the little house next door.
+She had always loathed that little house with its barefaced poverties
+and uglinesses, and it had been a great relief to her to have it stand
+vacant in past years. She had left it vacant when she started upon her
+last globe-trotting. Now here it was teeming with life, and here she was
+aiding and abetting it! What new manner of Theodosia Baxter was this?
+
+"You'd better get up and globe-trot again, Woman, and not unpack," she
+uttered, with a lone woman's habit of talking to herself. "You were
+never made to live in a house like other people--to sit on porches and
+rock. And certainly, Theodosia Baxter, you were never made to live next
+to that little dry-goods box. It will turn you gray, poor thing." She
+felt a gentle pity for herself, then gentle wrath seized her. Why had
+she come home, anyway? Already she was lonely and restless. Why--could
+anybody tell her why--had she weakly yielded to two small girls? Her
+dear-beloved white dresses! And she could not go back on her
+promise--not on a Baxter promise! There was, indeed, the release of
+going away again, back to her globe-trotting--
+
+"I might write to Cornelia Dunlap," Miss Theodosia thought. "Maybe she
+is sorry she came home, too."
+
+Cornelia Dunlap had been her recent comrade of the road. They had
+traveled to many far places together. What would Cornelia say to that
+little conference of three--and a baby--on the front porch?
+
+"My dear," wrote Miss Theodosia, "you will think I have been swapped in
+my cradle since I left you! 'That is no fellow tramp of mine,' you will
+say, 'That woman being victimized by children in knee-high dresses!
+Theodosia Baxter nothing!'"--for Cornelia Dunlap in moments of surprise
+resorted sometimes to slang, which she claimed was a sturdy vehicle of
+speech. "You will set down your teacup hard," wrote on Miss
+Theodosia,--"I know you are drinking tea!--when I tell you the little
+story of the Whitewashing of Theodosia Baxter. But shall I tell it? Why
+expose Theodosia Baxter's weaknesses when hitherto she has posed as
+strong? Soberly, Cornelia, I am as much surprised at myself as you will
+be (oh, I shall tell it!). Do you remember your Mother Goose? The little
+astonished old lady who took a nap beside the road and woke to find her
+petticoats cut off at her knees? 'Oh, lawk-a-daisy me, can this be I!'
+cried she. I'm not sure those were just her words, but they will do. Oh,
+lawk-a-daisy me, can this be Theodosia Baxter! The Astonished Little Old
+Lady, if I remember my Mother Goose, resorted to the simple expedient of
+going home and letting her little dog decide if she were she. But I have
+no little dog.
+
+"They were so earnest to whitewash me, Cornelia! The whole scheme was
+such a plucky little one and Baxters, from the dawn of creation, have
+admired pluck. The lively, chatterbox-one was 'Evangeline' and the quiet
+one who should have been an Evangeline was what the other one ought to
+have been,--a 'Stefana,' suggestive of flashing, dark eyes under a lace
+mantilla, with ways to match the eyes. So does fate play her little
+jokes. The baby--but what do I know of babies or you know of babies? He
+had six toes and I might have seen them for nothing; so do we miss our
+opportunities. He was named for his grandfather just in time, but the
+name, my dear, the name! Elihu. Are you listening? _Elihu_! But they
+offered him the assuaging 'sop' of 'Launcelot' for a middle name, and
+what could a baby do? Babies are the little scapegoats of mistaken
+loyalties."
+
+Miss Theodosia was having a good time. Her sober mood had passed. She
+wrote on enjoyingly, describing the whole little episode to Cornelia
+Dunlap. The freshening of it in her memory was pleasant. Again she felt
+the tug of those eager little pleadings. She kept remembering other
+things about little Elihu Launcelot besides his name and his toes. She
+remembered how gravely he had looked at her, how tiny and soft his hands
+were.
+
+"That little box of a house next to mine, Cornelia,--I told you about
+it. Well, it's as full now as it has been empty, and a little fuller.
+Dear knows how many it holds! But it's sociable seeing the smoke come
+out of the chimney; _it's friendly_."
+
+She had not thought of it as sociable and friendly before. The thought
+seemed just to have come to her. She was quite cheerful-minded when she
+finished her letter to Cornelia Dunlap and neatly folded it. If she had
+but known, she was sorry for Cornelia who was not next door to a
+friendly little box.
+
+She made tea and sipped it, made golden toast and opened a
+foreign-looking box of some sort of jelly. While she ate slowly, she
+slowly made plans. No, she would not have a stay-all-the-time maid--yes,
+she would move her things into the room facing the next-door house.
+Until she got tired of watching the sociable thread of smoke, anyway.
+
+It had not occurred yet to Theodosia Baxter that she had not said a word
+to Cornelia Dunlap about going on their travels again. When it did
+occur, she suddenly laughed out aloud, but softly.
+
+"I forgot what I began that letter _for_! I never mentioned going away
+again! And now--I'm glad. Who wants to go off? 'East, west, hame's
+best.' Even a hame next door to a little dry-goods box."
+
+Of course there was the promise to let those funny kiddies whitewash
+her--
+
+"It's a Baxter promise; don't try to get out of it, Theodosia Baxter,"
+she said.
+
+The next noon she saw her dresses dangling from the neighboring
+clothesline. They were not successfully dangled; Miss Theodosia liked to
+see them hung with symmetry, all alike in a seemly row. The shirtwaists
+dangled also in unseemly attitudes. One hung by a single sleeve. But
+that was not all--a certain faint suggestion of something worse than
+lack of symmetry persisted in Miss Theodosia's mind. They had been
+especially travel-stained, soiled; they had still an air of soil and
+travel-stain. They didn't look clean!
+
+Miss Theodosia groaned. "It may be blueing streaks," she said, but there
+was little comfort in blueing streaks. She got her opera glasses and
+peered through them at her beloved dresses. Brought up at close range,
+they were certainly blue-streaked, and there was plain lack of the snowy
+whiteness her stern washing-creed demanded.
+
+At intervals, small figures issued from the house and circled about the
+clotheslines, inspecting their contents critically. Miss Theodosia saw
+one of them--it was the child of her doorstep--lay questionable hold (it
+must be questionable!) upon a delicate garment and examine a portion of
+it excitedly. She saw the child dart back to the house and again issue
+forth, dragging the slender young washerwoman. Together they examined.
+Miss Theodosia caught up her glasses and brought the little pair into
+the near field of her vision; she saw both anxious young faces. The face
+of Stefana was strained and careworn.
+
+Miss Theodosia was thirty-six years old, and all of the years had been
+comfortable, carefree ones. In the natural order of her pleasantly
+migratory, luxurious life, she had rarely come into close contact with
+careworn or strained faces; this contact through the small, clear lenses
+seemed startlingly close. Stefana's lean and anxious face, the child's
+baby-bent little back, like the back of an old woman--it was at these
+Miss Theodosia looked through her pearl glasses. She forgot to look at
+the garment the children examined so troubledly. Suddenly, Miss
+Theodosia Baxter--traveler, fortune-favored one--found herself as
+anxious for the success of Stefana's stout little project as the two
+young people within her field of view, but, suddenly and unaccountably,
+from a new motive. The slim, worn-looking little creature,--and that
+tinier, tired little creature--must not fail! The stout project should
+succeed!
+
+Stefana carried the disputed garment back into the house and rewashed
+it; it was dripping wet when she again dangled it beside the others.
+Several times during the afternoon this process was repeated, until, at
+nightfall, the entire wash dripped, rewashed and soggy. Miss Theodosia
+nodded her head approvingly; she had her reasons for being glad that the
+wash was to remain out overnight.
+
+It was a starless, moonless night--a night to prowl successfully about
+clotheslines.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled. The little dry-goods box full of children was a
+small, vague blur, a little darker than the darkness. The children slept
+the profound sleep of childhood and childhood's unbelonging toil. Sleep
+was smoothing Stefana's roughened little nerves with gentle hand and
+fortifying her courage for yet more strenuous toils to come.
+Evangeline's weary little arm--and tongue--were resting.
+
+Miss Theodosia prowled softly, to avoid disturbing the little box-house.
+She had the guilty conscience of the prowler that sent her heart into
+her mouth at the crackling of a twig under her feet. She found herself
+listening, holding her breath in a small panic. No sound of wakened
+sleepers, but there must be no more twigs.
+
+"I must add a postscript to Cornelia Dunlap's letter," she thought.
+"This would make a thrilling wind-up! Cornelia would say, 'Lawk-a-daisy
+me, it _can't_ be Theodosia Baxter!' She wouldn't need any little dog."
+
+Safe in her own house once more, Miss Theodosia breathed a sigh of
+relief. Saved! But there was another trip yet to be made to that region
+behind the vague little blur of a box. It was too soon to be relieved.
+
+"What I've done once I can do twice," boasted Miss Theodosia, undaunted,
+though at the approach of her second prowling expedition, her courage
+waned unexpectedly. "I mean if I have a cup of tea--strong," she weakly
+appended to her boast. It would take her longer out there the second
+time. She really needed tea.
+
+Miss Theodosia retired at eleven, tired but contented. She even smiled
+at her sodden fingers--when had Miss Theodosia Baxter's fingers been
+sodden before!
+
+The next morning, the child and the childlier child appeared at her
+porch, where she rocked contentedly.
+
+"She's ironin' 'em!--Stefana's ironin' 'em! No, I can't sit down; she
+said not to. She's ironed one dress three times. It's funny how irons
+stick, isn't it? No, not funny--mercy gracious! You oughter see
+Stefana's cheeks, an' she's burnt both thumbs--I'm keepin' Elly Precious
+out o' the way, an' she's forbid Carruthers comin' in a step. She'll get
+'em ironed, Stefana will. You can't discourage Stefana! Last night I
+kind of thought you could, but the clo'es whitened out beautiful in the
+night. Stefana said it was the night air. There wasn't a single streak
+left this mornin'. We're goin' to keep your money in Mother's weddin'
+sugar-bowl, an' when she comes back, we're goin' to ask her if she don't
+want some sugar!"
+
+All day Stefana toiled and retoiled. It was night when she sent one of
+the children to Miss Theodosia with her day's work. The one who came was
+Carruthers, chatty and deaf. Miss Theodosia did not have to do any
+talking.
+
+"Stefana says there's some smooches, but the worst ones come under your
+arms an' where they's puckers. The wrinkles Stefana hopes you'll
+excuse--they'll air 'out, she expects. She was comin' over an' explain,
+herself, but she's gone to bed. Evangeline's gone, too, to keep the baby
+quiet. Stefana says you needn't pay as much's you expected to, 'count o'
+the smooches an' wrink--"
+
+"I always pay the same price for my dresses," Miss Theodosia said,
+forgetful of the boy's affliction. She put the money into the hard
+little palm of Carruthers and watched him scamper home with it. Miss
+Theodosia looked happy. She felt pleasant little tweaks at her
+heartstrings as if small grimy hands were ringing them, playing a tender
+little tune. Scorched, blundering young hands--Stefana's. The little
+tune rang plaintive in her ears. She had a vision of Stefana toiling
+over the ironing of her dresses and going to bed exhausted, when the
+toil was over. Miss Theodosia's eyes followed Carruther's retreating
+little figure till it reached the House of Little Children and
+disappeared from view. What had she, Theodosia Baxter, to do with houses
+of little children? Since when had they possessed attractions for
+her--held her tender, brooding gaze? What was she doing here now,
+gazing? Theodosia Baxter!
+
+Stefana had folded the dresses painstakingly in separate newspaper
+bundles and stacked them on Carruther's outstretched arms. They were
+stacked now on Miss Theodosia's porch. She picked them up and turned
+with them into the house.
+
+"I'll unfold them," she thought, "and shake them out. I must tell her to
+send them home without folding next time--or I can go and get them
+myself."
+
+Unpinning Stefana's many pins, she lifted out one of the dresses. It
+creaked starchily under her hands; it opened out before Miss Theodosia's
+horrified vision. She uttered a groan.
+
+Where, now, was that tender little heart-string tune?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+Miss Theodosia saw pink. Near-anger surged up within her at this
+ruinous, this piteous result of Stefana's toil. The result dangled
+creaksomely from her hands, revealing new wrinkles and smooches and
+leprous patches of starch at every motion. What was in this bundle would
+be in the rest--there was no hope.
+
+In Theodosia Baxter's little girlhood, she had played there were two
+"'Dosies," a good one and a bad one. The Good 'Dosie was often away from
+home, but was sometimes apt to appear at unexpected moments, to the
+embarrassment of the Bad 'Dosie. Stamp her foot as she would, Bad 'Dosie
+could not always drive the unwelcome intruder away.
+
+"I don't like her!" the small sinner had once been heard to say.
+"She--she p'eaches at me!"
+
+The Good 'Dosie was preaching now.
+
+"Wait! Count ten!" she preached. "Don't get any angrier, or you'll see
+red instead of pink. Think of that poor child's burned thumbs--think of
+her having to take to her bed when she got through--"
+
+"I don't wonder!" snapped Bad 'Dosie.
+
+"Wait--wait! Aren't you going to be good? Do you remember what you used
+to do, to help out? Well?"
+
+Miss Theodosia dropped the starchy mass on top of the other newspaper
+bundles and rather suddenly sat down in a chair. She saw a little child,
+preached to and penitent, on her knees, with folded hands, saying "Now I
+lame me down to sleep."
+
+It was very still in the room. Miss Theodosia's eyes closed and opened
+again. It was as if she had said "Now I lame me." A little smile tugged
+at the corners of her mouth. She no longer saw even pink.
+
+She got up briskly and began turning back her cuffs. First, she would
+build the kitchen fire; it must roar and snap, with all the work it had
+to do to-night. She would heat a lot of water, for only boiling water
+could take out Stefana's awful starch. While the water was heating, she
+would eat her supper.
+
+"A good, big supper, it will have to be," smiled this gentled Miss
+Theodosia. "I've got to get up my strength! No tea-and-toast-and-jam
+supper to-night." She heated her gridiron smoking hot and broiled a bit
+of steak. She tossed together little feathery biscuit and made coffee,
+fragrant and strong. Momently, Miss Theodosia's strength "got up." She
+moved about the kitchen briskly--when had she launched out upon a
+night's work like this? Adventure!--call it adventure.
+
+Work to Miss Theodosia had always meant something that other people
+did,--the Stefanas and their mothers and brothers and fathers. What she
+herself did, a gentle, dilatory playing at work, hardly merited the
+name. A bit of dusting, tea-and-toasting, making her own bed, cooking
+for sheer love of cooking, what did they count in Miss Theodosia's
+summing up of tasks?
+
+Always there had been some one to do her heavy things. She had put her
+washings out and taken her dinners in; three times a week she was swept
+and scrubbed and made immaculate.
+
+But to-night--to-night was different. This was to be no playing at work.
+Miss Theodosia rose to the occasion gallantly--indeed, exultantly.
+Thrills of enthusiasm ran up, ran down her spine. She prepared for a
+night of it.
+
+The dresses immersed in steaming hot water and her supper eaten, she
+stretched drying-lines, with considerable difficulty, from corner to
+corner of her kitchen, prepared an ironing-board, and got out long-idle
+irons. At eight o'clock she stopped for breath. Stefana's starch still
+resisted all inducements to part with Miss Theodosia's dresses; more hot
+water was required. After another steamy bath, they were cooled and
+wrung and draped over the crisscross clotheslines in the hot kitchen.
+Then Miss Theodosia temporarily retired from the field of battle.
+
+Theodosia Baxter had come back from her travelings to this small
+ancestral town with a mildly disturbing taste in her mouth. "Settling
+down" at thirty-six was not at all to her mind; she would not settle
+down!
+
+"If I catch you doing it, Theodosia Baxter!" she said. "If I catch you
+growing old! The minute you feel it coming on, you pack up and start for
+Rome! Or Paris! Or Turkistan! Start for Anywhere! Keep going!"
+
+But, already, did she feel it coming on even before all her trunks were
+unpacked? She was a little frightened at certain signs. Now, when she
+sat down heavily--why did she sit down heavily? If some one had called
+upon her for scores of little services, so that she must hop up again,
+immediately--little piping voices: "Mother, where's my cap?" "Mother,
+make Johnnie stop plaguing me!" "Mother, come quick!" If a big John had
+come home to her, demanding her time or sympathy or service--
+
+"No little Johns--no big one!" She sighed. "Is that the matter with you,
+Theodosia Baxter? Well, for Heaven's sake, don't tell anybody! Keep a
+bold front."
+
+She dozed a little in her rocker while she waited. Her plaintive
+reveries took the shape of a sober little dream wherein one Theodosia
+Baxter tottered on a cane and another walked briskly and youngly among
+Johns. Both Theodosias were thirty-six.
+
+"Mercy!" she exclaimed, waking up. "Where's my cane? I must go and iron
+Stefana's dresses!" She felt oddly refreshed. Queer dream to refresh
+one! She found herself thinking kindly of Stefana.
+
+"I hope she's sound asleep, and a pitying little girl angel with a
+nurse's cap under her halo will slip down and cure her thumbs before she
+wakes up."
+
+The irons she had set to heating were much too hot. Should she run
+out-of-doors while one of them cooled, and lie in wait to catch the
+little nurse-angel on the wing or perhaps darting thrillingly down to
+Stefana on a shooting star, breaking all speed limits! This was a night
+for adventure. The wild ride of a becapped and haloed little celestial
+in goggles would be an adventure! Miss Theodosia laughed out girlishly,
+not at all a tottery laugh on a cane, and the pleasant sound broke the
+midnight stillness.
+
+The dresses were dry enough to roll into tight bundles. One she essayed
+to iron as it was. She began as soon as the iron was cool enough.
+
+Miss Theodosia toiled--adventured--through the long hours into the
+short. It was unaccustomed toiling, and, like Stefana, she burned her
+thumbs. She had judgment and the skill that age kindly lends, in her
+favor, and slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's
+patient endeavors and brought beauteous perfection out of apparent ruin.
+But the process was wearying and long. It would have been but half the
+labor to have begun at the beginning instead of at Stefana's poor little
+end.
+
+At midnight, Miss Theodosia made herself cups of tea and sipped them
+thirstily. A wrist, both thumbs, and her testing forefinger smarted; she
+was tired and disheveled. But the spirit of adventure refused to die.
+
+The fire burned red-hot and the irons must cool again. Miss Theodosia
+slipped out this time into the soft darkness.
+
+"Let us hope Aunt Sarah will 'knit fast,'" she was thinking, with
+whimsical eyes. "But if she doesn't--Theodosia Baxter, dear, if Aunt
+Sarah is a slow knitter, you are in for it! I've no idea of letting you
+off. Baxters that begin, end."
+
+It was dim starshine out-of-doors. Miss Theodosia was too late to see
+the nurse-angel riding on her star, her little cap and halo awry with
+the downhill glide through space. She was too late to see her go into
+the dark little House of Children--but she saw her come out. Distinctly,
+a misty little blur of white against the velvet background. Miss
+Theodosia started a very little--did she need pinching to wake her?
+
+For the space of a clock-tick the little celestial appeared to hesitate,
+as though waiting for her star-steed to come within her hail. Then,
+floatingly, not walking, it seemed to Miss Theodosia, the mist of blurry
+white drew nearer. It came near to Miss Theodosia, and it was not the
+nurse-angel in cap and shining halo. It was Stefana!
+
+The child was in her nightgown. One look into her wide, unseeing eyes
+was enough; Stefana was asleep. In a chattering little voice she was
+talking to herself. It was like a soft wail of sound.
+
+"I must get them back! Quick, before she sees; I must iron them over.
+Perhaps if I starched them again--another coat of starch might hide the
+smooches. She mustn't see the smooches! If Mother should lose the
+chance--oh, I must get 'em back and starch 'em another coat! Mother
+mustn't lose her! My thumbs ache so!"
+
+Was she coming straight toward the door? No, a fortunate whiff of breeze
+seemed to blow her aside like a little seed-puff, and she went drifting
+by. She was apparently searching anxiously.
+
+"I must find them! Quick, before she sees! Oh, there are the smooches. I
+see some of the smooches! But I can't find the rest of them--"
+
+Miss Theodosia sprang forward in the direction of the pathetic little
+figure, but almost as quickly caught herself up. Sleepwalkers were not
+to be awakened suddenly. What then was to be done?
+
+"I must get her back to bed without letting her wake," thought Miss
+Theodosia. A plan suggested itself. She caught of her large apron,
+rolled it into a bulky mass, and swiftly followed the small nightgowned
+figure. Her steps made no sound over the grass. It was but the work of
+an instant to lay the roll of apron in Stefana's arms. Instantly, at the
+feel of starched cloth in her hands, the tense little face relaxed.
+
+"I've got 'em back!" Stefana muttered, and, as if from the relief of it,
+the troubled sleep seemed to calm and quiet down into deep oblivion to
+all troubles. To Miss Theodosia's dismay Stefana slid quietly to the
+ground and dreamlessly slept. Here, indeed, was adventure! Even at
+twelve years and Stefana small, the child was too heavy to carry home.
+
+"I don't dare to wake her," Miss Theodosia cried aloud, but softly, as
+if in fear of doing so.
+
+"You needn't--hush! I'll carry her for you."
+
+The voice seemed to materialize out of the gloom into something big and
+high and unexpectedly close at hand that rightly should have startled
+Miss Theodosia but failed to do so. Afterward, in the house again, among
+her irons, she was startled.
+
+"I was going by and saw her--you can tell a sleepwalker by the way one
+walks. Glides. Now, when I lift her, gently support her head--that's it.
+Forward, march!"
+
+"This way," Miss Theodosia directed in a whisper, though he was already
+moving this way. Shadow Man that he was, he stepped earthily, with thuds
+of his feet on the grass. Miss Theodosia's footsteps were soft echoes.
+So they came to the little House of Flaggs.
+
+"There's a light in that inside room, and I can see a bed. I'll lay her
+down, and you can go in afterward--and--er--smooth her out."
+
+"Yes--yes, I'll wait out here," whispered Miss Theodosia with a curious
+solemnity in her face. Rome, nor Paris, nor Anywhere had offered
+adventure like this--not like this. Miss Theodosia had an odd feeling
+that this, too, was a dream--and a John. Would they all wake up
+together?
+
+"Sound as a nut--never knew what hit her! But she wants straightening.
+New work for me; I'm not used to putting kiddies to bed."
+
+"Oh, I'm not either!" breathed Miss Theodosia, "but I might straighten
+one. I don't suppose you--you kissed her thumbs? Of course not!" She
+laughed softly. "But I shall."
+
+Now it was the Shadow Man's turn to laugh with a funny, explosive little
+effect as though he were not used to muffling his laughs,--as if this
+playing Shadow Man were a new rôle.
+
+"Why thumbs?" he whispered. "Why not lips, say, or eyes? I thought women
+kissed kiddies' eyes. Hope I haven't made a mistake--" as if he had some
+secret desire for women to kiss the eyes of little children. "If you
+don't mind kissing 'em when you go in there--"
+
+"I shall kiss her thumbs," Miss Theodosia said firmly. "They were burned
+at the stake for me. I know how burned thumbs feel."
+
+But the Shadow Man stubbornly persisted.
+
+"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll go back now and kiss her thumbs, if
+you'll kiss her eyes when you go in; as--er--a favor. 'Stoop over the
+little sleeper,' you know, and 'press your mother's lips to the closed
+blue orbs.'" He seemed to be quoting something.
+
+"But I haven't any mother's lips," sighed Miss Theodosia, "only the kind
+for thumbs--just thumbs. I'm sorry," she added humbly. Curiously she
+experienced no surprise at this intimate turn of a conversation with a
+Shadow Man at midnight.
+
+"That's all right--that's all right," the Shadow Man assured her. "Only
+thought I'd feel a little better to prove it was done that way. Hadn't
+any business mixing up with women's lips and kiddies' orbs, anyway!
+Serves me right." And now it was his turn to be humble. "Good night,"
+and he was gone.
+
+It was into a tiny bedroom off the kitchen, where a needle of light from
+a turned-down lamp barely pricked the darkness, that Miss Theodosia
+found her way. She had a dim picture of littering little clothes about
+the room and on the flat pillows of the bed the round, flushed face of
+Evangeline. In a clothes basket beside the bed she dimly saw a little
+mound that might be Elly Precious--it was Elly Precious! The little
+mound stirred with a curious, nestling sound, and instantly Stefana
+stirred also and crooned. Even in her sleep she was the little Mother.
+Miss Theodosia felt her own throat tighten and fill.
+
+Stefana still clasped the bundle of apron in her arms, and Miss
+Theodosia did not dare try to take it away from her. She merely arranged
+it a little more comfortably and smoothed Stefana out. Queer!--as if at
+some other time, in some passed-by existence, she had smoothed out a
+child. She seemed to know how. Suddenly she stooped and kissed, not
+Stefana's thumbs but her eyes.
+
+"The starch!" murmured Stefana as Miss Theodosia turned away. "Some'dy
+get it!" The deep sleep had broken a little, and through the break
+trickled a thread of Stefana's troubles. Then, again, silence and peace.
+No sound from bed or clothes basket on the floor.
+
+Outside, in the faint starlight, Miss Theodosia drew a long breath. She
+softly laughed. Curious how much like a sob a little laugh can be! Oh,
+starlit night of adventuring! What next? Miss Theodosia's mantle of
+gentle melancholy slid from her shoulders; she no longer felt
+apprehensions of growing old. Continually she saw Evangeline's rosy face
+on that flat pillow, and the little mound of Elly Precious. She
+remembered how tiny the house had looked from the inside, and how many
+little littering clothes she had seen. The appealing quality of empty
+little clothes! In Miss Theodosia's inside room of her soul, something
+stirred behind the locked door.
+
+The irons had cooled too much, and the fire was low. Miss Theodosia went
+to work again. As she worked, she talked to herself sociably.
+
+"Adventures thicken! Stars, and angels in caps, and children that walk
+in their little sleeps! And little heaps in clothes baskets, that are
+babies! And--Theodosia Baxter--a Man! Out of a clear, inky sky! Why
+weren't you scared? How do you know--you never even saw his face--maybe
+he was a thief, and a marauder, and a thug!"
+
+Granted, if thieves and marauders and those awful things, thugs, carry
+little loads or sleep as tenderly as women--and never wake them; if they
+are polite and say good night--. What kind of marauding and--and
+thugging is that?
+
+"What will Stefana think when she finds my apron in bed with her!"
+suddenly laughed Miss Theodosia, breaking the spell. "Funny Stefana! she
+goes to my heart, she and her starch--when they're asleep!"
+
+But, awake, Stefana's starch went to Miss Theodosia's back and aching
+bones. It was three o'clock when she was ready to go to bed. Over chairs
+and the couch in her sitting-room, lay the three redeemed white dresses,
+soft again and very smoochless and smooth. Miss Theodosia stood and
+admired. She was full of pride and weariness. At last, at thirty-six,
+she had done real work; she loved the feel of it in her tired bones. She
+loved her night of adventuring. Life--she loved that. So she went to bed
+at three, when the birds were beginning to get up. If her throat--calm
+and grown-up throat--had not persistently tightened, she would have gone
+to sleep laughing at the remembrance of it all. All the funny night. Why
+wasn't it funny? Why couldn't she laugh? She sat up in bed.
+
+On the morning after her adventurous night, as Miss Theodosia lingered
+luxuriously over her late breakfast, came bursting in Evangeline Flagg.
+A gray-checked something waved from her hand like a flag of truce.
+Evangeline always burst into things--houses, and rooms, and excited
+little speech.
+
+"Here it is!--that is, if it's yours. Stefana says to ask. 'Tain't ours.
+Mercy gracious, no! We don't take our aperns to bed. Stefana never heard
+of such a thing. Neither o' us never. In bed--right straight in bed! An'
+Stefana hugging it up like everything! She says to ask you if it's yours
+because it ain't ours, nor anybody else's, an' it's got to be somebody's
+apern, and once I thought I saw a gray 'n' white one hanging through
+your window--I mean on a nail, but, mercy gracious, what was it doing in
+bed with me an' Stefana!"
+
+Even Evangeline's breath had limitations. She stopped as headlong as she
+had begun. She unwound the large, voluminous-skirted apron from her
+grasp and extended it.
+
+"Here 'tis, if it's yours," she gasped, spent. She was gazing at it with
+a species of awe; it was an "apern" of mystery, not a human apern. "An'
+if 't isn't, take it--Stefana said not to dare to bring it back.
+We--we're sort of afraid of it, honest. Though, of course, Stefana says
+it must 've blew in the window"--the tide of speech was coming in once
+more--"an'--an' sort of landed on the bed, an' Stefana kind of grabbed
+it in her sleep, thinking it was Elly Precious. But, mercy gracious!"
+
+"Sit down," Miss Theodosia said, smiling. "Doesn't it tire you to talk
+as fast as that?"
+
+"Some," admitted Evangeline, "but I don't mind. What I mind is
+ghosts--aperns an' the kind with--with legs." She dropped her voice. "I
+saw one las' night."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia breathed.
+
+Evangeline nodded solemnly. "Out the window. I woke up feelin' one, an'
+I saw it goin' across the grass. White. Slinky."
+
+"Oh, not--slinky!" protested Miss Theodosia, suddenly championing the
+ghost-with-legs.
+
+"Slinky," firmly. "I guess I'd a-screeched right out if I hadn't
+remembered the baby. Elly Precious is terrible hard to put to sleep
+second time. You aren't much acquainted with babies, are you?"
+
+Again--so soon! Miss Theodosia's humility returned.
+
+"We're acquainted, over to our house! Mother says babies are great
+edge--edge--"
+
+"Educators?"
+
+"That's it! Mercy gracious, then I should think Mother'd be graduated!"
+
+After Evangeline's departure, Miss Theodosia set down her coffee cup and
+gave herself up to laughter. The room rang with the pleasant sound of
+it.
+
+"Will you l-listen to yourself, Theodosia Baxter!" she cried at length,
+out of breath. "You actually sound happy!"
+
+In the afternoon, a bevy of Miss Theodosia's old friends called on her
+as she sat on her front porch. They had intended, they said, to wait
+till the proper time, according to etiquette, for calls upon returned
+travelers.
+
+"But we wanted to see you so much, after all this time," one of them
+said. "We decided we couldn't wait to be proper. Besides, it would be
+such a risk. While we waited, you'd run off again. It was really our
+only way. Ladies, will you see how lovely and white she looks! Perfectly
+spotless!" The speaker sighed. Her own dress was dark and spot-colored.
+"I don't see how you do it! I tell Andrew I'd rather dress in white than
+in velvet--I love it! But, there, I couldn't get a minute to wear the
+dresses; it would take all my days to do 'em up. Of course, with you
+it's different. I don't suppose you ever toiled over an ironing-board a
+day in your life."
+
+Miss Theodosia gravely shook her head. "No," she said, curious little
+twinkling lines deepening round her eyes, "I never did--a day--in my
+life."
+
+"That's what I thought! That's what I told Andrew. 'Theodosia Baxter
+don't know what work is,' I told him. It's easy enough for some women to
+wear lovely white things. Simplest thing in the world!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's cryptic little smile lingered on her lips and in the
+clear windows of her eyes, as she gazed past the voluble wife of Andrew,
+through her vines, at the little House of Children next door. She
+imagined she heard Stefana singing, high up and sweet, over her work.
+Wait!--that was not a singing sound!
+
+A single shriek shot above the clear humming noise that might be
+Stefana. Then another--a third!
+
+"Some one is hurt!" cried Miss Theodosia, and she kilted her smooth
+white skirts and ran.
+
+Again that dread shriek! Over her shoulder, as she ran, Miss Theodosia
+gave directions to her startled callers.
+
+"Telephone for a doctor--any doctor. In the side hall--on a table!" But
+could any doctor save the life of that terrible shriek? If it came once
+more--It came! Miss Theodosia involuntarily closed her eyes to shut out
+a sight of horror.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+She opened them hurriedly at the soft collision of herself with
+Evangeline.
+
+"Who is it? Is it the baby? I've sent for the doctor." Half-remembered,
+half-read first aids crowded her mind confusedly. Warm water and
+mustard--that was for hemorrhage--no, no--poison! But did you apply it
+inside or out? What was that about laying the patient up hill--feet
+higher--or was it feet lower--down hill?
+
+"Take me there, quick! We must do what we can till the doct--oh, the
+poor baby!"
+
+"Mercy gracious goodness! Elly Precious is eatin' bread an' molasses.
+He's only et one slice, an' most o' that's on his outside. They aint'
+an'thing worse'n molasses the matter with El--"
+
+"There! Oh, there!" As another mournful cry split the air.--"Oh, that!
+What is it? Who is it?"
+
+"Mercy gra--why, that's Carruthers bein' a steam whistle. Did he scare
+you? He does do it pretty loud when he's gettin' up steam; you see, he
+don't know how loud he does it, because he's deaf o' hearin'. We can't
+bear to lower him, but we only let him be a steam whistle for a
+treat--when he's 'specially good--Mother said to. Stefana found him
+washin' his face 'free greatest' this mornin', so she let him--.Quick,
+shut your ears! He's goin' off again!"
+
+'But, this time, Miss Theodosia heard, unalarmed. To her own surprise,
+she listened almost enjoyingly. To be able to make a noise like that!
+The sheer vitality and youth of it compelled admiration.
+
+"If I could do that--" began Miss Theodosia's thought, then broke off
+hastily as the mental vision of herself in the act of bein' a steam
+whistle appeared to her.
+
+"You do it this way," explained Evangeline, inserting a forefinger in
+each corner of her mouth and preparing to steam-whistle.
+
+"No, no, I don't do it any way!" Miss Theodosia protested smilingly. "Do
+you think--do you think, perhaps, he has been sufficiently rewarded for
+washing his own face, now? Because, you see, I have callers on my
+porch."
+
+"Mercy gracious--I see 'em! I'll go right an' stop Carruthers! That's
+what Stefana said--that we'd ought to remember you wasn't in Europe
+now."
+
+"I think I could hear steam whistles there!" Miss Theodosia smiled. But
+Evangeline's sober mind continued its line of thought.
+
+"Stefana says if you'll hang somethin' red out when you're asleep, or
+got callers, or anythin', then she'll make us play funeral."
+
+"Oh, no--not that!" No red flag of warning could justify playing
+funeral.
+
+"Well, Hold-Your-Breath, then. We can't make much noise holding our
+breaths! Stefana's the champion Hold-Your-Breath-er. You take an awful
+long breath--this way--" But, already, Miss Theodosia was on her way
+home. She found her callers moving agitatedly about. "Central asked what
+doctor, and for the life of me I couldn't remember a living doctor's
+name in this town. 'Anybody,' I told her. 'Tell him to come quick;
+somebody must be dying over to the little Flagg place."
+
+Miss Theodosia lifted a hand to stem the tide of Mrs. Andrew's words.
+
+"He's stopped dying--listen! It's all quiet now; it was only play. I'll
+head Central off. Excuse me a minute--I mean, another minute!"
+
+But Central had done her work well--beyond heading-off. Already an
+automobile was speeding up the road; behind it clattered a
+hurriedly-driven buggy. Miss Theodosia saw them both stopping at the
+little Flagg place. She smiled. She was not needed over there to make
+any explanations or apologies--Evangeline was there!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+She sat on her porch after the visitors had gone, thinking strange Miss
+Theodosia thoughts. A man, coming up her front path and lifting a soft
+felt hat, interrupted the strangest thought of all.
+
+"I beg your pardon. Is this where somebody needs help? I was told--"
+
+Miss Theodosia laughed outright.
+
+"I do need help. Were you ever a steam whistle? You put two fingers in
+your mouth, one in each corner--I was trying to get up my courage to do
+it!"
+
+The felt hat rolled down the steps, the stranger needing both his hands.
+
+"Like this?"
+
+"Ye-s. I never saw a steam whistle, you know. That was what I was
+wishing."
+
+"Heard one? Because I can give a demonstration."
+
+"Don't!" Miss Theodosia shut her ears.
+
+"I heard one--demonstration. I thought some one was dying, at least."
+
+"Oh, that was the 'help wanted!' I see. My services are not required,
+then; it was a false alarm."
+
+Miss Theodosia was on her feet, remembering her manners. "It was a true
+enough alarm; won't you sit down? I think my nerves need a doctor."
+
+"Did I call myself a doctor? I am a reformed doctor, madam. It is some
+years since I got out. But I thought, in a very urgent case--fits, you
+know, or something like that--Thank you, I won't sit down. My work calls
+me."
+
+Miss Theodosia inclined her head politely, but curiosity seized her. How
+curious she was getting about many things!
+
+"I wish I knew--" she began.
+
+"Yes, madam?"
+
+"What work 'calls' reformed doctors. After they are--out."
+
+The stranger's big, unharnessed laugh was almost startling to Miss
+Theodosia. Why? She had never heard just such a big, unharnessed laugh
+before. She had heard a big harnessed laugh--when? Before she could
+answer her own thought, or the stranger could answer her spoken query, a
+hurry of small feet sounded. Only Evangeline's feet could break speed
+limits like that.
+
+"Oh, Miss Theodosia--oh, I don't want to int'rupt, but just soon's he's
+gone--"
+
+"He's gone," sighed Miss Theodosia, as the child came up. "You mustn't
+interrupt again, that way, unless it's a very urgent case--fits or
+something." In spite of proper vexation, she smiled. "Who was that man,
+Evangeline, that just went away?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I wasn't acquainted with his back; that's every speck
+o' him I saw. Oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, what is the matter now?"
+
+"'D you ever do up a man, Miss Theodosia? Stiff--awful stiff? Stefana
+says it's bad enough to do women up. She's havin' a dreadful time! We
+can't get the stiffness out; I been helpin'. It stands up alone!"
+Suddenly, without warning, Evangeline went off into a series of shrill
+shrieks.
+
+"Stop me! Stop me! Don't l-let Stefana hear me! Don't l-let me laugh!"
+
+This was an urgent case--fits or something, surely! Miss Theodosia's
+eyes sought the horizon for a reformed doctor. In lack of one, she shook
+Evangeline.
+
+"Stop at once! Make yourself stop; count ten!"
+
+"One! Two-o! Th-ree!" shrieked Evangeline, through to ten. Ten separate
+shrieks. Then, abruptly, she ceased.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I've stopped! I hope Stefana wasn't listenin'. But she
+wasn't; she was cryin'. I left her cryin'. If you could come over--.
+Honest, we can't do a thing! We thought you'd probably did up men."
+
+Miss Theodosia never had. Not so--awful a thing as that!
+
+"It stands up alone, with both arms out! I don't dass to go back. I
+shall laugh if I do, an' if I laugh, Stefana'll cry. She don't think
+it's f-funny." The shrieks showed signs of returning, and Miss Theodosia
+again had recourse to stern measures.
+
+"Count ten!" she demanded, as she shook.
+
+They went back together to the mysterious something that stood alone
+with both arms out. It was in that pose as they approached it. Miss
+Theodosia thought it was f--funny; an awful desire to shriek like
+Evangeline took possession of her. She counted ten in inward haste.
+
+"I can't do anything with it!" wailed poor Stefana. "And Elly Precious
+gets into it, and makes it walk! He's in it now."
+
+"It's walkin'!" shrieked Evangeline, as the portentously stiff shirt
+staggered a little to one side. Stefana, filled with enthusiasm and
+generosity of soul, had starched not the bosom alone but the entire
+shirt. She had done it thoroughly. The result was alarming. It was a
+terrible shirt!
+
+"Tell me what to do--somebody tell me!" entreated the little laundress.
+"I've unstarched it, and unstarched it, and seems as if it got stiffer."
+
+"Boiling water," breathed Miss Theodosia, too spent with her struggles
+not to laugh, to admit of further speech.
+
+"Wait! Don't anybody dass to pour boilin' water on till I get Elly
+Precious out! Come to Evangeline this minute, darlin' dear--no, they
+shan't boil him!"
+
+Elly Precious emerged, crowing. The deaf-but-not-dumb little Flagg
+appeared, to swell the number around the Terrible Shirt. Stefana dried
+her tears. Miss Theodosia had the sense of being looked up to--relied
+upon. She rose to the occasion buoyantly. As unused as Stefana to men's
+bosoms, she yet stepped into the breach. Unused to issuing orders, she
+issued them.
+
+"Evangeline, you and Carruthers see to the baby. Stefana, come with me.
+Bring--it."
+
+They went back to the big house, she with that new and intoxicating
+sense of importance, and Stefana with the Terrible Shirt.
+
+"Whose is it--that?" she asked, indicating the creaking white garment.
+"What were you doing with it?"
+
+"Starching it," mumbled poor Stefana. "It took most a package. He said
+he liked his stiff. 'Put in plenty o' starch,' he said to Mother, and
+she always did. So I did. I thought if he said--"
+
+"If who said?" It took a long time to establish the identity of the
+Terrible Shirt.
+
+"If he did, the man it belongs to."
+
+"What man--who?"
+
+"The man that writes things."
+
+"What things?"
+
+"We don't know exactly. Evangeline thinks tracts. She says his room was
+all full o' half sheets o' paper--lying all over everywhere. She saw
+'Good Lord' on one. Perhaps it's sermons. Mother always sent Evangeline
+home with his wash; I never went. He is a very nice man--oh, that's why
+I feel so bad about his shirt! I wouldn't care if he was an--an
+infidel!"
+
+"Bless your heart!"
+
+Miss Theodosia turned suddenly and embraced Stefana and the shirt.
+"Don't worry any more," she said; "you and I will work wonders with that
+Tract Man's shirt! Stefana, put the kettle on and we'll go to it!
+There's nothing two determined people can't do, once they've put their
+minds on it."
+
+Together they labored, and the impossible happened. Theodosia Baxter did
+up a man! She--and Stefana--succeeded in getting the starch out of the
+surrounding area and into the bosom of the Terrible Shirt. They got much
+starch in. Inspiration appeared to come to Miss Theodosia. Even the
+really awful task of ironing that bosom till it glittered and shone in
+unwrinkled board-like expanse was at length accomplished. Miss Theodosia
+was justly proud of herself--and of Stefana; she insisted upon including
+Stefana in her triumphs.
+
+"Eureka!" she exulted. "Call Evangeline, Stefana, and Elly Precious, and
+Carruthers! Call in a Chinaman, if you like, and tell him to look at
+that! Ask him to beat it!"
+
+"There isn't any in this town," responded literal Stefana. "That's why
+Mother did bosoms. She'd a good deal rather not've."
+
+"But I love to do bosoms!" sang Miss Theodosia. "I never felt so worth
+while in my life before--an artist in starch, Stefana!"
+
+"Well, you've done beautifully--I never did see!" the grateful Stefana
+cried. "But I'm afraid it's kind of gone to your head. I think you
+better lie down."
+
+"Send for the Reformed Doctor! Stefana, what are you doing with my
+beautiful bosom?"
+
+"I won't muss it. I'm just going to take it home and sew the buttons on.
+There's two off. Mother always sewed 'em on; he pays two cents extra for
+repairs."
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair face flushed. "You don't stir a step with it! I
+have buttons and a spool of thread--what I do, I finish doing! Give it
+to me."
+
+For the first time, Miss Theodosia handled a man's garment intimately.
+It lay stiffly across her lap. She sewed on the two buttons; she mended
+a tiny "hog-tear." Life had taken on new interests--bosoms and buttons.
+She thrilled--when had she ever thrilled before? Ironing her own dresses
+had been a poor, tame business. She would be sorry to part with this
+shirt!
+
+And then Evangeline came.
+
+"Mercy gracious, doesn't it look elegant! I came over because he's come
+for his shirt. He says he's goin' to begin a new story, an' he always
+has to have a clean shirt on. An' his hair cut--he's got it cut. I guess
+that bosom'll match his hair all right! It's perfectly lovely!"
+
+"What did you do with Elly Precious, Evangeline Flagg!" demanded
+Stefana.
+
+"That's it--that's why I got to hurry back. He's keepin' Elly Precious
+for me, an' he don't know what to do with babies. He says all his are
+paper ones--paper babies! He gave Elly Precious his knife, an' opened
+the blades to amuse him! He said he guessed Elly Precious wouldn't hurt
+'em!" Evangeline's face registered great scorn. "If you'll give it to
+me, I'll carry it to him," she concluded, holding out her hand for the
+shirt. But Miss Theodosia sewed calmly on. She had found a second tear
+larger than the first. It would be better to strengthen it with a little
+piece underneath. She would find a white scrap in her bag of pieces.
+
+"It is not ready yet. He can wait. But you must not wait, Evangeline.
+Elly Precious may be playing with his pistol, if he carries one."
+
+"He don't. He ain't a pistol-man, but, mercy gracious, how you scare me!
+You comin' too, Stefana?"
+
+"Yes, Stefana can go now. She is all through," which was Miss
+Theodosia's kind inclusion of Stefana. That, again, was curiously new to
+Miss Theodosia. Psychological changes were taking place--or were they
+just plain tugs on Miss Theodosia's heartstrings?
+
+She sat and sewed.
+
+"Patching--I'm patching!" she laughed to herself. "And here I've been
+hiring my own mending done! Theodosia Baxter, see what you are doing;
+you are patching a shirt for a man! No, I'm not, either! I'm doing it
+for Stefana--what are you talking about?"
+
+Some one came up her steps and knocked on her open door. But she was too
+engrossed to hear. The patch underneath had slipped a little askew. She
+ripped out some of the stitches and began again. She caught herself
+humming as she worked.
+
+"Please may I have my shirt?" a voice asked meekly. "That story is
+promised for next month. It's the twenty-eighth, now."
+
+Evangeline's Tract Man stood in the doorway, soft felt hat in hand,
+twinkles in his eyes. Evangeline's Tract Man was the Reformed Doctor! If
+Miss Theodosia had been eighteen instead of thirty-six she would not
+have blushed more beautifully, but she continued to patch. She was
+caught in the act; no help for it now. But she would finish--that--
+patch.
+
+"So it's you! So that's the work Reformed Doctors do!"
+
+"Madam, yes. When stories appeal to them more than pills and tonics,
+they reform and write stories. They have to!" he cried, suddenly in
+earnest, "When one is life, and the other death--"
+
+"Oh, if it was death to them--your patients," she murmured. Then,
+ashamed of her own flippancy: "Of course, I didn't mean anything as
+silly as that! I meant--I meant, please sit down while I finish this
+patch. There, in that easy-chair. There are magazines on the table."
+
+There was one magazine with his own name in the list of contents. He
+opened it at that page and gazed down upon it quite soberly.
+
+"My name is John Bradford," he said, as if reading. Miss Theodosia
+started a little, but it was not as he thought, in his innocent vanity.
+Miss Theodosia got no farther than the first part of the name--so he was
+a John! She glanced quickly at the doorway, measuring him in her mind as
+he had stood against the lintel. He had reached a long way up--a long
+man. The Shadow Man had been a long shadow. Something told her--
+
+[Illustration: "If you are thinking of putting me anywhere, put me into
+a story like that."]
+
+"Did you ever carry a child in your arms and lay her on a bed? In the
+middle of the night? Did you do it last night? Are you the same man?"
+
+"I am the same man I was last night," he answered gravely. "I was John
+Bradford then, too. Didn't I carry her all right? What was the matter?"
+Suddenly he leaned forward in the chair. "Did you kiss her thumbs?" he
+demanded.
+
+"I kissed her eyes."
+
+They were silent for a little, while Miss Theodosia set small, nervous
+stitches in John Bradford's shirt, and John Bradford twiddled the edges
+of the magazine. He stole glances, now and then, at this strange woman
+with whom he seemed to have come so oddly into contact. He could make a
+story of her dark hair, straight shoulders, beautiful hands. He could
+not get a good view of her full face. Bending over a bed, kissing a
+little sleeper's eyes--he could work her in that way. If he knew her a
+little better--
+
+"I knew they did it!"
+
+"Did what--who?"
+
+"Women--kissed that way. You have proved it now."
+
+"I'm not women. I'm just one woman, and I never did it in my life
+before."
+
+"Well, you liked doing it, didn't you? I could put you in, liking it."
+
+The shirt slid to the floor, and Miss Theodosia gave her visitor a full
+view of her face.
+
+"Are you making 'copy' of me? Because if you are thinking of putting me
+anywhere, put me into a story like that. I'd like it. I mean, with
+little children in a bed--and one in a clothes basket! Say I tucked them
+in--Yes, I liked kissing Stefana's eyes. I should love to have another
+chance. It's nothing to be ashamed of, is it, to like little children?"
+
+"I like 'em. I always have."
+
+"Well, I always haven't. Only very lately--it's queer. When I came home
+here and found all those children next door--mercy gracious!"
+
+They both laughed. Laughing together is a great acquaintancer. Miss
+Thedosia suddenly thought of something and laughed a little more.
+
+"My name is Theodosia Baxter," she said. They rose and shook hands
+gravely. They were decently introduced. The beautiful shiny bosom of the
+shirt lay between them like a white mirror and Miss Theodosia caught the
+man's glance on it.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of--doing up a shirt?" she demanded.
+
+"Not doing it up like that! That's a work of art!"
+
+"A work of heart--I did it for Stefana. I've got quite fond of it now,
+and shall hate to part with it. It's a friend."
+
+"A bosom friend," he parried. Again they laughed and grew more
+acquainted. Miss Theodosia made tea in her dainty Sčvres cups. The
+faintest flecks of pink made her face youthful. Miss Theodosia was a
+good-looking woman always, but, animated, her face was really lovely.
+John Bradford was better used to paper women, like paper babies, but his
+taste recognized flesh-and-blood attractiveness. He had always been a
+lonely man--until now.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time," he sighed. "Is it anything to be ashamed
+of, to have a beautiful time?"
+
+"Or two cups of tea? Please! This is my company tea--warranted good to
+write stories on!"
+
+"Oh--stories. Are there such things? Did I ever write one? Have I got to
+write another?"
+
+"It's the twenty-eighth," Miss Theodosia reminded demurely. "But you
+will need another cup of tea. How long does it take?"
+
+"To drink another cup?"
+
+"To write another story. Tell me about it. Perhaps I could do it. You
+take a blotter and a pen and plenty of half-sheets of paper--'tracts,'
+Evangeline calls them! Then you write 'Good Lord!' That is what
+Evangeline says you wrote on a tract! She said maybe it was a sermon."
+
+"Oh--Evangeline! And speaking of angels--"
+
+"Mercy gracious! You're here--both o' you! An' somebody's gone an'
+spilled a drop of somethin' on that beautiful bosom!"
+
+"A tear-drop, Evangeline, because she wouldn't give it to me."
+
+"Tea drop!" sniffed Evangeline. "Guess I know! After all Stefana's work!
+Miss Theodosia, can Elly Precious eat your grass? He's out there now. He
+don't really eat it; he just kind of pretends. Mother says Elly Precious
+ought to be put out to pasture. We haven't got any grass to speak of,
+over to our house."
+
+"Don't speak of it! Of course he can eat mine, if you think it is
+edible. Ask the Reformed Doctor."
+
+"Him a doctor? Mercy gracious--honest? Then he knows if Elly Precious'd
+ought to eat grass--not really eat, you know."
+
+"Just graze a little--let him graze." The Reformed Doctor rose to his
+feet and held out his hand to Miss Theodosia. "I'll go out and see how
+he does it. It's lucky Evangeline came in, or I might not have known
+enough to go at all. I've had a beautiful time. I'll put you in with the
+bedful of kiddies."
+
+"And the clothes basket?"
+
+"And the clothes basket."
+
+"You haven't got your shirt--mercy gracious! I thought that's what you
+came after," reminded Evangeline.
+
+"Was it?" the Reformed Doctor said. "Give it to me, Evangeline."
+
+"Not naked! Without wrappin' up! I never did see!"
+
+"It's such a good-looking shirt--well, then, wrap it up, wrap it up.
+I've got a newspaper in my pocket. Put that round it, Evangeline." He
+turned again to his hostess. "It will be a good story if I put--the
+clothes basket--in it. They won't send it back. Good-by."
+
+He was off to inspect Elly Precious' grazing-ground. Evangeline, at the
+window where she had gone to make sure her darlin' dear was safe,
+presented to Miss Theodosia a square, bony little back that was
+curiously like that of a dwarfed old woman.
+
+The trail of innocent Elly Precious was over that stoopy little figure.
+Miss Theodosia looked with softened eyes. Then a smile grew in them,
+wrinkling their corners whimsically. She was noticing something else
+besides the little old-lady back. Evangeline's braids toed in! Tight and
+flaxen, they stood out in rounded curves, converging suddenly to the bit
+of faded ribbon that tied them together. There was something suspicious
+looking about that ribbon--"Stefana starched it!" smiled Miss
+Theodosia's thought.
+
+The small figure whirled face about.
+
+"There, _he_ can see to him awhile." Evangeline was always cheerfully
+oblivious to any confusion of ideas arising from her use of personal
+pronouns. "I'm tired. Children are a great care," said Evangeline. She
+seated herself in an easy chair and dangled thin legs.
+
+"If you drank tea--I'll make you a cup of cocoa, Evangeline."
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious, no! I'm not as tired as _cocoa_. Jus'
+sit-'n'-a'-chair tired. You know how it feels--no, you don't either.
+I forgot. I guess you are pretty lucky. No, I don't guess so _either_!"
+Evangeline suddenly straightened on the edge of the big chair and eyed
+Miss Theodosia sternly, as though that innocent soul had been the one
+guilty of disloyalty to darlin' dears.
+
+"Children are a great comfort," declaimed Evangeline with emphasis. She
+might have been the mother of six comforts. Tenderness crept into her
+eyes, and her freckles seemed to fade out, and even the small blunt nose
+of her take on middle-agedness and motherliness. '"Specially when you
+undress 'em. They're so darlin' an' soft! You ever undressed one--a
+reg'lar _baby_ one? Of course not one o' your own when you never _had_
+any, but I thought p'raps you might've undressed a grandbaby or
+somethin'--"
+
+Miss Theodosia shook a humbled head.
+
+"No," she murmured, "I never undressed even a grandbaby." And curiously
+she failed either to smile at the child's little notion or to wince at
+the advanced age it implied for her. She looked across the room from her
+big chair to Evangeline's with rather a wistful look. She was envying
+Evangeline.
+
+"I'm sorry," the child said gently, a little embarrassed by the
+unexpected solemnity of the moment. To relieve it, she had recourse to a
+sudden funny memory of her own undressings of Elly Precious. She broke
+hurriedly into laughter.
+
+"I have to have an extra pig for my baby!" she shrilled. "Takes six
+instead o' five! You know where it ends, 'This little pig said: "Quee!
+Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door sill"?' Mercy gracious, you
+don't know the little pigs, I s'pose--" More embarrassment. Even
+Evangeline was losing presence of mind.
+
+"Oh, yes!" Miss Theodosia brightened perceptibly. "I know the one that
+went to market and the one that stayed at home--all five of them I
+know."
+
+"But you don't know Elly Precious's extra little pig!" crowed the
+reassured Evangeline. "Just _us_ know that one. I made him up. When you
+have six toes,--I mean when Elly Precious has,--you have to have six
+pigs. After the one that can't get over the barn-door sill, I say: 'This
+little pig said--' wait, I'll say the last two together so you'll see
+they rhyme beautifully. Reg'lar poetry.
+
+"'This little pig said, "Quee! Quee! Quee! can't get over the barn-door
+sill.'"
+
+"'_This_ little pig said, "He! He! He! when you tickle, I can't keep
+still!'"
+
+"Elly Precious wiggles it when I tickle! We laugh like everything. I
+think it is pretty good poetry," added Evangeline modestly.
+
+"It is beautiful poetry. I never could have begun to make up such a
+lovely, ticklish little pig!"
+
+Evangeline leaned back again in the soft cushiony embrace of the great
+chair and actually achieved a moment of silence. The talkative clock on
+Miss Theodosia's mantel filled in the space. Then once more Evangeline:
+
+"But I shall never have any."
+
+"Any--pigs?" smilingly.
+
+"Children. Not any. I've decided I'll rest. They're such a care. But of
+course I can run in an' undress Stefana's an' Elly Precious's--mercy
+gracious, Elly Precious's!"
+
+It required too great a mental effort to visualize them. Elly Precious's
+children were _funny_! Evangeline giggled softly. "Then I'll be a
+gran'mother, won't I! I've always wanted to be a gran'mother an' say
+what I did when _I_ was a child an' how I always _minded_." A fresh
+giggle. "'_I_ never had to be _told to_ twice, my dears,' I'll say to
+Elly Precious's children! They'll all be my dears. I'll help bring 'em
+up. Isn't it queer," broke forth Evangeline suddenly, "how when you get
+to be old you never were bad when you were young? The badnesses have
+kind of--kind of faded out. I bet there _were_ badnesses!"
+
+And Miss Theodosia found herself nodding decisively. She, too, bet there
+were.
+
+A hilarious little crow suddenly sounded from without the window; it was
+accompanied by a deep man-sound of mirth. Miss Theodosia and Evangeline
+smiled across at each other indulgently.
+
+"Elly Precious is havin' a good time. That's his good-time noise. Oh, I
+think he's a nice person, don't you?"
+
+"Nice? I love him!" cried Miss Theodosia warmly. Her face that was still
+the face of a girl was tenderly flushed. "I love every inch of him,
+Evangeline."
+
+"Merry gra--that's a lot of lovin'! I guess you are ahead o' me!"
+
+"Evangeline Flagg, aren't you ashamed! When he is the dearest,
+cunningest--"
+
+"Not--not _cunnin'est_. But he's got beautiful whiskers. I mean if he
+didn't shave 'em off. When he came, he had 'em on. You can't love his
+whiskers when you never saw--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up a limp hand to stem this terrible tide of words.
+
+"Oh, stop! _wait_, Evangeline!" she begged. "Who are you talking about?"
+
+Why stop for grammatic rules at a time like this?
+
+"Why, he--_him_. I said I liked him, an' you said you lov--"
+
+"I have been talking about Elly Precious, naturally," Miss Theodosia
+returned stiffly. "You are very careless with your pronouns,
+Evangeline," she added with an effect of severity. Her cheeks that
+persisted still in being a girl's cheeks had grown a warm, becoming
+pink. In pink Miss Theodosia was lovely.
+
+"Don't you think you'd better relieve Elly Precious' caretaker by this
+time? He may not enjoy being left in charge quite so long."
+
+"Not enjoy! Come an' see him not enjoy!" sang Evangeline from the
+window. She was flattening her nose against the pane and bubbling with
+sympathetic glee. Miss Theodosia went over and stood beside her.
+
+Out there the two of them were frolicking together--two joyous children.
+It was the good old game of Peek-a-boo, but seemed a new, surprising
+game to Miss Theodosia. The big playmate on the grass spread a
+handkerchief over the little playmate's face, and with a shriek of joy
+the little playmate did the rest. Then the big child's turn--turn and
+turn about. Deep voice and thin, sweet tinkle of baby voice joined in a
+curiously harmonious chorus that rang through the window pane into the
+two pairs of listening ears.
+
+It was a new light in which to see--a new sound in which to hear John
+Bradford. Miss Theodosia had a guilty consciousness of being an
+eavesdropper, yet she kept on eavesdropping. At a particular climax in
+the little play, she laughed aloud softly. Evangeline wriggled with
+enjoyment. Her fingers drummed applause on the glass, and the big player
+glanced quickly up and saw the two lookers-on. He did not hesitate in
+the play, did not stop the next little gleeful peek. Miss Theodosia
+loved it in him for not stopping. They were not ashamed--Elly Precious
+and John Bradford.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+In the next few days Miss Theodosia unpacked the rest of her trunks and
+put the things away neatly in permanent places. She sang as she did it.
+Life seemed a singing thing to Miss Theodosia who had been a lonely
+woman--until now. Now she could look out of her window and see the
+little House of Flaggs. Any minute Evangeline might burst in. The steam
+whistle might blow. The Shadow Reformed-Doctor Man might come for
+another cup of tea. Anything might happen.
+
+Something did happen, but it was not a singing thing. Evangeline did
+burst in. It was some days later than the Day of the Shirt. Miss
+Theodosia sat comfortably sipping her afternoon tea. Two dainty cups
+were before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious--mercy, mercy, mercy gracious! This is the worst! This
+is worse than Aunt Sarah! An' to think it's Elly Precious, my darlin'
+dear! An' to think I never had--! An' to think I did it myself!"
+
+Even to Evangeline, words failed to express this worst of all things.
+She dropped, a little leaden thing of despair, into Miss Theodosia's
+great chair and rocked herself in anguish.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Miss Theodosia cried anxiously. The little word of
+endearment slipped out unconsciously, though she was not used to
+"dears." But she was not used to this, either--this rocking in anguish
+of a little child in her great chair.
+
+"Can't you stop crying and tell me?" Evangeline not able to talk! Miss
+Theodosia was actually alarmed. If speech did not return quickly--but
+speech returned.
+
+"Oh, mercy gracious me!" Evangeline sobbed, rocking harder, "to think I
+went an' set him right down in the middle of 'em--right slap in the
+middle! An' he didn't want to be set down. Elly Precious despises the
+Benjamin baby. He knows he's a girl, an' girl-babies don't count. But I
+set him down--oh, mercy gracious me, I went an' set him down, slap!"
+
+Sobs and words collided and inextricably mixed. In the dark Miss
+Theodosia waited; she saw no light as yet.
+
+"If I could only have 'em--if I only had've, anyway! Then I could take
+care of my darlin' dear. But Elly Precious's is the only measles we ever
+had in the family."
+
+Ah, light! Miss Theodosia blinked in the sudden inflow of it.
+Evangeline's released tongue leaped ahead.
+
+"How'd I know the Benjamin baby had 'em when she only just sneezed? Oh,
+I suppose she sneezed 'em all around, an' I set Elly Precious down in
+'em! Right in a nest o' measles!"
+
+"What was Elly Precious doing there? I don't remember any Benjamins."
+
+"No'm--oh, no'm. They're very recent. It's that house with the baby-pen
+in the front yard to keep their baby in. I set Elly Precious down in it,
+too, one day."
+
+Evangeline shuddered. "While I was gettin' Stefana's starch at the
+store; I asked if I could, till I got back."
+
+Miss Theodosia's face put on sternness. "What was the mother of the
+Benjamin baby thinking of, to let you?" she demanded.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I don't know! That's a very speckled baby, anyway,
+an' perhaps she didn't know measles from speckles. He didn't bloom out
+reg'lar built till next day--I mean she didn't--oh, I don't mean the
+mother didn't--"
+
+"I know, dear; I know what you mean," soothed Miss Theodosia gently.
+
+"Yes'm, that's what I mean. Next day they found out for sure."
+
+"But have you found out 'for sure'? How do you know Elly Precious has
+the measles? Has he--bloomed out? Perhaps his are speck--"
+
+"Elly Precious!" rose Evangeline's voice of indignation. "He's the
+unspeckledest baby you ever saw! I guess--I guess you never saw Elly
+Precious!"
+
+Stefana appeared suddenly in the doorway,--a blanched and frightened
+Stefana. But she was determinedly calm.
+
+"He's fell asleep, and Carruthers is watching him through the door. I
+told him not to go any nearer'n that. I came over to ask if I'd better
+send word to Mother. He said to ask you."
+
+"Carruthers?" Miss Theodosia was a little bewildered.
+
+"The Tract Man. He's the one that--that discovered Elly Precious's
+measles when we found he was broken out--I mean Elly Precious broken
+out--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know. He is a doctor--I mean--" Miss Theodosia caught
+herself up firmly. One at least must steer a clear course.
+
+"He was goin' past," Evangeline put in, "an' I asked him, if he uster be
+a doctor, wouldn't he please to be one now an' 'xamine Elly Precious's
+spots."
+
+"Measles," Stefana said briefly and hopelessly. "Shall we send for
+Mother, or what'll we do? Aunt Sarah isn't knitting."
+
+"Aunt Sarah--" began poor Miss Theodosia. Would she ever get used to
+little Flaggs? Evangeline broke in gloomily with explanation.
+
+"No'm, not knittin', Mother wrote Stefana. Kind of--of unravelin'
+instead. An' Mother's caught it."
+
+Miss Theodosia turned appealing eyes to Stefana.
+
+"Her knee's bad, too. Maybe it's just rheumatism, but she borrows Aunt
+Sarah's crutches when they're empty. I don't see how she'd get home--"
+
+"Don't send for her!" Miss Theodosia directed. Some inner voice seemed
+to say it through her lips. The same dictate from within prompted the
+rest.
+
+"Bring the baby over here. Bring all his nightgowns. I'll take care of
+him. It won't do for all you children to come down. Does the
+Reform--does the doctor think you can have caught them already? I don't
+believe it! Not till the disease is further advanced."
+
+"That's what he said--not till." Stefana hurried in eagerly. "_He_
+didn't believe it."
+
+"The Benjamin baby wasn't further advanced," doubted Evangeline
+discouragingly.
+
+"Never you mind the Benjamin baby! You bring your baby over here at once
+with his nightgowns! I believe we're in time. I'll be reading up my
+medicine book. You can tell the doctor to come here instead of to your
+house. Don't any of you dare to kiss Elly Precious good-by!"
+
+Miss Theodosia was moving briskly about the room, doing strange
+things,--pulling down shades and drawing together draperies.
+
+"Mustn't have too much light, though maybe that is later on, too. I'm
+sure there is something about being careful of the eyes. Evangeline,
+wait! Let Stefana go. I don't trust you; you might kiss him."
+
+"Yes'm, I might," sighed poor little Evangeline. "He's my darlin' dear."
+A terrible separation yawned before her like a bottomless pit of
+desolation. How was she to live Elly Preciousless?
+
+"Can't I come over an'--an' hold him when he isn't--when he isn't
+sneezing?" she suddenly sobbed forth. Miss Theodosia was too engrossed
+to be sympathetic. There were many things to think of.
+
+"Come over?--I should say not! You can't do anything but look through
+the window, and I shall ask the doctor if that's safe. Now
+listen--dear," again the "dear" slipped through her lips unconsciously.
+"Listen! When you see Stefana coming, you go out the back door! I wish
+I'd told her to bring him in the clothes basket instead of in her
+arms--"
+
+"I'll tell her to! Through the window. I'll tell her to bring him by the
+handles," and Evangeline hurried away excitedly.
+
+An hour later Miss Theodosia, in a voluminous white apron and a hastily
+invented white cap, had formally assumed her astonishing new rôle. Under
+the cap Miss Theodosia's cheeks were prettily pink. It was becoming to
+her to be Elly Precious' nurse. But the queer feeling of it! An hour ago
+Theodosia Baxter, in a big house, alone; now this becapped and
+pink-cheeked Theodosia in a house with a baby! It was an exciting
+change; what else might it become? She was a little afraid of Elly
+Precious.
+
+"Not now, while he is asleep, but when he wakes--" she thought. What
+would she do with Elly Precious when he waked?
+
+Of course, she had sent for the Reformed Doctor, and equally, of course,
+she would do precisely what he told her to do. But how would it feel? So
+far, it felt queer.
+
+"I'll wait and see," she concluded with philosophy. At six the doctor
+came. It was significant how he had left his rôle of authorship at home
+and came physicianly, brisk and competent.
+
+"Measles haven't changed, anyway, in ten years," he said as he removed
+his coat. Long ago, as a doctor, John Bradford had had his
+idiosyncrasies, and one of them had been to work in his shirt sleeves.
+The laying aside of his coat now had, if Miss Theodosia had but known,
+bridged over the ten years.
+
+"Am I quarantined?" demanded the nurse.
+
+"You are," promptly replied the doctor.
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+Silence while the tiny patient was carefully examined, with so delicate
+a touch that he slept on.
+
+"For how long?" then.
+
+"Oh--weeks. Two, perhaps. Perhaps three. He is beginning to be feverish
+in earnest now. You got him over here just in time. May I have a glass
+of water?"
+
+Miss Theodosia went away to get it on shaking legs. She almost
+staggered. The plot was getting thick!
+
+"If you think his mother ought to be sent for--I'm afraid I'm in a blue
+funk!" She had returned and was splashing the water over the edge of the
+glass as she held it out. He laughed reassuringly. His face, turned
+sidewise up at her, was as reviving as cool water upon a faint. Miss
+Theodosia "came to."
+
+"I've got over it. Go ahead--tell me precisely what you want done. Write
+it down somewhere. I can read writing! And I can't forget it. Of course
+I can rock him?"
+
+He did not answer at once, and she misinterpreted his silence.
+
+"I shall rock him," she said with firmness. "Written down or not written
+down." And again he laughed, with the same curiously explosive little
+effect as when she had first heard him do it as a Shadow Man.
+
+It was long after he left before Elly Precious woke. With remarkable
+presence of mind, Miss Theodosia had darkened the room to make the
+difference between herself and Evangeline or Stefana as inconspicuous as
+possible. It helped. Elly Precious, even busy with his measles, might
+have vigorously refused this strange new ministering. But in the
+darkness he accepted it with a measure of resignation. He appeared to be
+looking inward at his own poor little pains instead of outward or upward
+at Miss Theodosia. She wisely refrained from speech during those first
+critical moments.
+
+Ten-year-old arms may not be as steady for cradling as thirty-six-year
+olds. Miss Theodosia's were steady and soft. The baby nestled into them
+and she rocked him.
+
+She was rocking a baby! She was glad to be alone in the dark. The
+sensation rather overwhelmed her. Then Elly Precious flung up little hot
+hands and touched her face, and the sensation was no longer a new one.
+Surely she had felt it before. Was it in another incarnation that she
+had rocked a little child? The small, hot hands tugged at her
+heartstrings--they must have tugged, just so, at that ancient rocking.
+It was a beautiful tune, but not a new tune that the small hands played.
+No, no--not new!
+
+Miss Theodosia began to croon softly, no longer afraid of sound. And
+Elly Precious snuggled deeper.
+
+Shut in together--she and he and the measles--they grew accustomed to
+each other. After the first, the days went rather fast, with
+Evangeline's help through the window and under the door. Evangeline
+helped from the first. Miss Theodosia found little letters emerging
+through the tight crack under her outside door. The first one she read
+smilingly:
+
+[Illustration: Evangeline established a stage of action outside the
+window.]
+
+"He likes jiggy tunes best--please sing him jiggy tunes."
+
+So she sang them to Elly Precious and found he liked them best;
+Evangeline knew. This method of helping promised to be valuable.
+
+One day there were two little letters under the door.
+
+"When he crys, he'll stop if you distrack him. Like this--_boo_--or make
+a cow-noise or a horse-noise, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes he
+keaps right on and then its no use to distrack him. Try tickleing unless
+tickleing is bad for measles."
+
+This was a long note. Miss Theodosia did not smile this time because of
+the new sensitiveness in the region of her heart. When she read the
+second note, she held it a long time in her hand while something wet
+blistered it in spots.
+
+"Please don't be mad if I worry a little for fear Elly Precious will
+throw off his cloes. He's a dreadfull throw-offer, so we pin his sides
+to the cloesbasket but maybe you don't sleep him in a cloesbasket. I
+couldent sleep last night.
+
+"P.S. With safety pins."
+
+Sometimes they were cheerful little letters that peeped under the tight
+crack. Evangeline wrote the news to Elly Precious. That Stefana's washes
+came easier now and Carruthers was good all the time, only they never
+let him be steam whistles, of course. That they all missed Elly Precious
+and hoped that they'd be short measles and, mercy gracious, yes, they
+loved him, and Aunt Sarah was knitting again.
+
+As the baby began to convalesce (they were short measles) and could sit
+up on Miss Theodosia's lap in front of the window, Evangeline's most
+important assistance began. For Elly Precious had very restless
+occasions and even Miss Theodosia's new skill failed always to
+"distrack" him.
+
+Evangeline established a stage of action outside the biggest-paned,
+lowest-silled window, where vision was least obscured from within. On
+that stage she danced wild, long dances, varying with each performance.
+It was amazing how she varied them--sometimes bending and bowing
+tirelessly, sometimes evolving remarkable skirt dances from legs and
+toes and whirling petticoats. She grimaced unweariedly as long as Elly
+Precious would laugh at her faces. When he tired of those, she
+impersonated a cow--a horse--and made cow-noises and horse-noises at
+the top of her voice, to carry to Elly Precious.
+
+Day after day she came, and they watched her from the big-paned
+window--the baby and Miss Theodosia. It was a great help to the measles.
+
+"I never saw such a child!" Miss Theodosia said to the Reformed Doctor.
+"She never gets tired of doing it."
+
+"Never was but one Evangeline--but she gets tired all right. Needn't
+tell me!"
+
+"Then it's--love," Miss Theodosia said gently.
+
+"It is," nodded he.
+
+They had proceeded far in their acquaintance. Elly Precious had been so
+tiny a thing between them, as they ministered to him! It was not to be
+wondered at that they had drawn closer. After his professional "call,"
+John Bradford fell into the way of lingering till she brought him tea.
+
+"Talk about women loving tea!" she gibed gayly.
+
+"Talk about it being the men that want three lumps!"
+
+"That is queer, isn't it? We're the wrong way about; I like mine sweet
+and you don't want any sugar. We're the exceptions that prove the rule.
+If you'll hold Elly Precious a minute, I'll fill your cup."
+
+"That will make three."
+
+"'And I'll do it again, if you like--and again if you like!'" she
+quoted.
+
+"Are you making stories now?" she asked him that day.
+
+And he nodded gravely, "One--a love-story."
+
+"Tell me about it! We want to hear it, don't we, Elly Precious? We love
+love-stories."
+
+"Not yet. Not till it is a little farther along." He set the third cup
+down untasted. His face, as Miss Theodosia looked smilingly at it across
+the baby's head, had grown grave. She wondered simply. Miss Theodosia
+was not making a love-story.
+
+"Will you tell us about it when it's farther along? About the heroine
+and how she likes being in a love-story? Mercy gracious, it must be
+exciting!"
+
+"If I can find out how she likes it," was his enigmatic answer. "She may
+not work out as I want her to. Heroines are women, you know."
+
+"Well, of all things! If you can't make your heroine behave, I don't see
+who can!"
+
+"I don't," he said slowly. "But I shall do my best."
+
+Another day, she had something to show him, and she made a little
+mystery of it at first. She and Elly Precious knew! It was something
+sweet--it could be worn, but you seldom looked at it. It was soft and
+hard, too. You could--kiss it! When it was empty you wanted to kiss it,
+and when it was full you had to!
+
+"Show it to me!" he commanded; "think I can guess all that?"
+
+She brought it and laid it in his hands, delighted like a girl.
+
+"Feel of it--isn't it soft? And I never made one before, so it was hard!
+You seldom look at it, because it's worn in the dark. You'd like to kiss
+it now, it's so sweet, but when I put Elly Precious into it, you'll
+_have_ to kiss it! There, didn't I tell you right?"
+
+It was a little nightgown she had made for Elly Precious. He held it on
+his two big hands like something wonderful. Its little sleeves dangled
+over, and she caught one of them and squeezed it in a sort of soft
+ecstasy.
+
+"It's so little!" she cried in a whisper. "Aren't you going to kiss it?"
+
+"If you'll look away--I'm afraid to when you're looking."
+
+"I won't look," she laughed. "You look, Elly Precious!"
+
+The bath-times were the pleasantest to Miss Theodosia. Getting things
+together--little tub and powders and soaps and the fresh little
+clothes--was a beautiful beginning, and after that--after that, the
+deluge! The practice she had had washing that little ancient baby, in
+her former incarnation, stood Miss Theodosia in good stead! As she had
+bathed and rubbed and powdered her first baby eons ago, she bathed and
+rubbed and powdered this second one now. For she called Elly Precious
+her baby. That was their beautiful play.
+
+"We'll keep it a secret, won't we?--just between you and me, dear! We
+won't even tell Evangeline that you're my darlin' dear," she crooned
+over this second baby. Elly Precious played the game; he was a little
+sport, was Elly Precious.
+
+The morning after the little new-nightgown episode, the bath progressed
+thrillingly. That was, it seemed, the morning set by Elly Precious to
+give this new mother a glorious surprise. It could not be said that he
+had it up his little sleeve, being innocent of any manner of garment,
+but he had it prepared.
+
+Miss Theodosia dried the tiny body and set it far forward on her knees,
+facing her, and began as usual:
+
+"Now, baby, watch--watch hard! Make exactly the same noise I do." She
+put her lips in position for clear enunciation.
+
+"Mam--m-ma."
+
+Customarily, Elly Precious sat and chuckled gleefully and nakedly. This
+was a favorite play. But, oh, to-day--
+
+"Mum--mum," said Elly Precious distinctly. Miss Theodosia caught him to
+her, slippery and sweet, with a cry of rapture.
+
+"You said it! You said it, Elly Precious--darlin' dear! Now I shall wrap
+you in a beautiful soft blanket and sing you a jiggy tune! Before I
+dress you in horrid, bothery sleeves, we'll rock, and rock, you and
+make-believe mum-mum!"
+
+The big chair creaked delightsomely to the ears of Elly Precious. To its
+accompaniment sang Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Darlin' Dear! Darlin' Dear, Mum-Mum's here--oh, Elly Precious, I shall
+send you to college! Of course, to college. You shall be a doctor--" Was
+that the chair creaking, or a door? It was a door. On the doorsill stood
+the Reformed Doctor, gazing in. The blanket had slipped away and it was
+a beautiful, bare Elly Precious in Miss Theodosia's arms, against her
+breast. The little picture stood out, distinct. But so soon it faded.
+She was on her feet and facing that treacherous doorway. Flames burned
+on her cheeks.
+
+"Is it anything to be ashamed of to pretend he is my baby! Well, I've
+done it--I'm pretending now. We were having a beautiful time till--"
+
+"Till I came."
+
+"Till you came. You heard what I said about making a doctor of him, I
+suppose?"
+
+He nodded. "I heard," he said meekly.
+
+"But you didn't give me time to say it all. I was going to say he'd stay
+a doctor and not reform!" With which Parthian shot, delivered with
+spirit, Miss Theodosia turned her back and Elly Precious' back to the
+intruder. What was left for him to do but retire, vanquished and
+diminished? The business of the bath went on, but joyless now. There was
+no further putting off of the horrid, bothery sleeves that Elly Precious
+abhorred. He set up indignant wails, and Miss Theodosia's soul wailed in
+unison.
+
+"All our dear good time spoiled! We're not pretending any more; you're
+Evangeline's darlin' dear. I'll put you on the bed and give you your
+bottle." So abruptly had the beautiful game come to an end. Miss
+Theodosia went away to prepare the bottle. As she went, a glint of white
+underneath the door to out-of-doors caught her attention. Evangeline had
+not tucked it under as far as usual. Perhaps it was not unnatural,
+considering her new mood, that Miss Theodosia picked up the little
+letter almost impatiently.
+
+"He says he can come home day after to-morrow if he don't colapse, so
+Stefana is cleaning the house and I'm helping and we can't hardly wait.
+We've got a new cloesbasket Stefana's going to make bows for the
+handles, tell Elly Precious.
+
+"P. S. Pink bows."
+
+Miss Theodosia was not impatient as she folded the little letter again.
+Tears stood in her eyes. She hurried back, bottleless, to Elly Precious,
+to tell him. That he had fallen asleep made no difference.
+
+"You are going home day after to-morrow! Dream it in a little dream,
+dear. When you wake up, it will be true. They can't hardly wait and
+there's a new 'cloesbasket' with bows--P. S., pink bows. Oh, Elly
+Precious, you know you're glad to go home! You've been pretending, too!"
+Game little Elly Precious, to pretend! She stooped and kissed his eyes,
+close shut in that dream of going home. "They are cleaning the house,"
+she whispered, "they can't hardly wait."
+
+A prescience of awful loneliness swept over her. She saw Theodosia
+Baxter--lone and babyless again--set back in her empty house. The
+curtain had gone down--would go down day after to-morrow--on the last
+beautiful act.
+
+"But I have two days left! I demand my pound--fifteen little pounds of
+flesh!" Elly Precious' little pink flesh. She would play that last act
+of the little game of make-believe. Intruders or no intruders, she would
+play it! At once, she began again where they had left off.
+
+"You will have to go to college very young, dear," she said. "They are
+going to take you away from me day after tomorrow. A day and a half is
+such a little college course; you'd be such a little Freshman, Elly
+Precious! So we will have to give it up, dear. We'll just spend our last
+days together. Who wants to know Latin and Greek anyway? I'll teach you
+to pat little cakes in English!" Surely, surely she must have taught her
+first baby to pat-a-cake. The blundering little hands in hers felt
+strangely familiar. The first baby had been just as funny and sweet as
+Elly Precious at that little lesson.
+
+"If I only had a little more time!" sighed Miss Theodosia. "There is so
+much left for us to do; it is cruel to hurry us so! We might--we might
+run away, dear! You and I. To Europe and Asia and Africa! I'd show you
+all the wonders of the world. Listen, Elly Precious,--the _pyramids_!
+Wouldn't you love to see the pyramids? You could play in the warm sand,
+anyway,--bury your little twelve toes deep! We would keep watch all the
+time and _run_ when we saw Evangeline coming. We would never stop to put
+on our shoes and stock--Elly Precious, you've gone to sleep!" So little
+was he thrilled at the prospect of pyramids.
+
+Miss Theodosia rocked him gently in her arms. Perhaps she would rock him
+the whole day and a half--they could not prevent her! She would not stop
+rocking if twenty Reformed Doctors came and looked at her. She would
+rock in their faces!
+
+A sudden and queer thought came to her of Cornelia Dunlap standing in
+the doorway, looking in as John Bradford had done.
+
+She saw the wreck of Cornelia's plump calm--Cornelia's wide-eyed
+amazement. After she had reluctantly deposited the small, limp body upon
+the couch to finish out the nap, she got her writing materials and wrote
+to Cornelia Dunlap, with a whimsical little smile playing about her
+lips. Her pen moved fast across the sheet.
+
+"The baby is having a beautiful nap. While he is asleep, I can write to
+you. Of course my time is limited--'what with' scalding and filling
+bottles and giving little baths--Cornelia Dunlap, go and get a little
+baby and wash him! In a tub, with your sleeves rolled up. Let him splash
+the water into your face--over your dress--hear him laugh! Give him the
+soap for a little ship a-sailing. Oh, Cornelia, teach him to pat-a-cake!
+Get a baby with the measles if there's no other way. You will love him
+in between all his little measles. But, listen to me; _take this
+advice_: Don't let them take him back! Hold on to both his little hands.
+Run away to Africa with him if there is no other way--he will love to
+play in the sand beside the pyramids. Send him to college, Cornelia, and
+I think--yes, make a doctor of him. Doctors are best.
+
+"Morituri salutamus--we who are about to lose our babies and die wish
+you happiness with yours, is the free translation. _Hold on to yours_.
+He is a dear, I know. He may be as dear as mine, but he hasn't twelve
+toes!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Mercy gracious!"
+
+It was the two days later and it was Evangeline. The child's radiant
+face lighted up the room.
+
+"He let me come! I promised Stefana I wouldn't kiss him till I got him
+home so's she could, too. He said to kiss his neck or behind his ears."
+As usual no confusion of personal pronouns troubled Evangeline.
+
+"Mercy gracious!--oh, mercy gracious, he's improved! He's fatter! I
+never thought measles'd be fattenin'! You're glad to see me, aren't you,
+darlin' dear? I'm Evangeline! I've come to take you home. We've got
+everything ready, only one bow, an' Stefana's piecin' that. Oh--my
+darlin' dear!"
+
+The curtain had gone down. Theodosia Baxter stood quite alone in her big
+room. In her ears was suddenly the shriek of a steam whistle of welcome;
+it died away, and the silence ached. A crumpled something half under a
+chair caught her eye and she openly sobbed. It was a forgotten little
+nightgown.
+
+"I'm going to Rome--I'm going to Paris--to Anywhere! I can't stand
+this!" she wailed. And then the creak of a door again.
+
+He stood on the door-sill looking in.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+"I've done it again!" came from the doorway repentantly, "but this time
+I knocked, honest to goodness. Regular bangs! You ought to have heard,"
+his tone assuming an injured cadence.
+
+Miss Theodosia had recovered herself. She was unfeignedly glad to see
+him this time.
+
+"Maybe it was you, steam-whistling," she laughed. "I heard that! Oh, I
+am glad enough you came this time! You've saved me from a trip to
+Rome--tea is so much less expensive! I'll go and get it." She was off
+directly and back again in remarkably quick time with her little kettle
+and lamp. "Less time and fuss, too. See how little baggage! Now, Rome--"
+
+"Don't mention Rome!" There was a deep note in John Bradford's voice. He
+watched her making the tea. Miss Theodosia's hands were worth watching.
+
+"Speaking of steam whistles reminds me of ears," he said.
+
+"Naturally! The two go together, all right!" But she saw that his face
+remained grave. "Oh!--you mean the steam-whistler's ears--I see."
+
+"Yes, I have examined them rather carefully. They aren't hopeless little
+ears--not hopeless. I'm not ready to go any farther than that yet. But I
+intend--you see, I specialized in ears and a few other things at the
+University--in practice, too, before--before I reformed."
+
+Quickly Miss Theodosia looked up.
+
+"There! You are harking back; please don't hark back! It was mean in me
+to say it. I'm sorry! If I'd sent Elly Precious to college--while he was
+my baby--and given him a doctor's degree, he could have taken it or left
+it. He'd have had a right. Men have rights to their own lives."
+
+"Sure," but John Bradford's tone was thoughtful rather than emphatic.
+"Still--I sometimes wonder--"
+
+"Why?--tell me why!" Now she was championing the Reformed Doctor! "You
+could do as you pleased, couldn't you? It was your own life you were
+'reforming.' Still, I wonder, too. Tell me how it happened."
+
+"How do I know how it happened?" He was walking up and down the room.
+"It was in my blood to write stories. I wrote them every chance I could
+get. Had to write them. I suppose I woke up to the rather decent
+conclusion that a man can't serve two masters and serve them well. Isn't
+efficient. So I chose my favorite master. There you have it in a
+nutshell. May I have mine in a teacup?"
+
+She filled the dainty shell, but it rattled a little on its saucer. Miss
+Theodosia felt about for less moving things; she was strangely moved.
+
+"How is the love story getting on?" she asked.
+
+"The--oh! Well, it had a setback awhile ago. Setbacks are not good for
+love stories. But I shall go to work on it again."
+
+"At once--to-day?" What was this sudden freak of hers to drive him to
+work?--the work she had all but derided before.
+
+"To-day. I'm working on it now--that is--er--"
+
+"Before and after--tea," she smiled. "Well, I shall help you all I can
+on that story. I feel in a penitent mood. When you begin on it again--"
+
+"I've begun on it again."
+
+"After you go home, I mean. When you go to work again, make believe I'm
+David Copperfield's Dora--holding the pens!" Too late she saw her error
+and hedged. "Or cups of tea to keep up your strength."
+
+"I like pens better. If Dora were there--"
+
+"One more cup? You've only had one. The cups are no size at all. And
+while you drink it, tell me about your heroine. What have you named
+her?"
+
+"Dora," he said promptly. "You see, you've helped already."
+
+It was pleasant, drinking tea like this, with John Bradford there,
+opposite, having his second cup. A pleasant way to drink tea--with a
+John! Miss Theodosia hugged herself happily. Even the forgotten little
+nightgown on the floor failed to diminish her content. She had not
+forgotten Elly Precious; she was merely making the most of the
+ameliorations the gods offered. The kind gods. But conscience had to put
+in its pious oar.
+
+"I'm having a beautiful time; I don't know whether you are or not. But
+I'm going to send you back to that love story. I hope the Recording
+Angel will give me a white mark for it, or cross out a black one. The
+goodness of me! I've been sitting here trying to strangle my conscience,
+but you see it isn't my own--it's my grandmother's conscience; you have
+to respect your grandmother's conscience. You'll have to go."
+
+"I can work on it here," he pleaded, but she shook her head mournfully.
+
+"I haven't the materials. It takes special paper, doesn't it, and pens?"
+
+"I could--er--think up my plot."
+
+"With me talking a blue streak? I should talk a blue streak; that's my
+grandmother's, too. No, you must go. How will you ever get it done, if
+you don't?"
+
+"I sha'n't if I do. Staying here is doing me good. I need to 'get up
+more strength.'"
+
+She laughed, but remembered her grandmother. "No more tea," she said
+kindly. "Conscience! But I'll tell you--you may come back after you've
+worked."
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+And for many to-morrows he came back. On one of them the talk once more
+reverted to the book that the Story Man was understood to be writing, in
+some mysterious Place of Pens and Paper.
+
+"I hope it's a regular romance," Miss Theodosia said.
+
+"Romance? What is that? Is there such a thing? There may have been
+once--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks took on faint color. She turned upon him.
+
+"Once nothing! I can't help it if that is slang; the occasion demands
+slang. Are you trying to tell me romance is dead?"
+
+He nodded. "Sterilized--Pasteurized--boiled out of us. I suppose," he
+sighed, "we are more hygienic, but we have faded in the process. It
+dulls romance to Pasteurize it."
+
+She held up a staying hand.
+
+"Please!" she said, "in words of one syllable and maybe you can convince
+me. But you can't. Do you mean to say there are no sweet, blushing girls
+left, with--with dreams?"
+
+Again his sigh. It pained him to disillusion her.
+
+"Not blushing ones. I tell you the color won't stand our modern
+sterilization process. I misdoubt the dreams, too. If they dream 'em,
+they're of independence and careers and votes; you wouldn't call those
+romantic dreams, would you? The little 'clinging vines'--" he waved them
+back into the past with a comprehensive sweep of his hand--"all gone.
+Our present-day soil is too invigorating, too stimulating. The
+young things stand up on their own roots. No more clinging. Each one
+aspires to be a spunky little tree by herself. Look at 'em and see for
+yourself--the subways and elevateds are full of 'em at the crush hours,
+nights and mornings--all glorying in their independence--their fine,
+strong, young roots. No blushing, no clinging there! Are you convinced?"
+
+"I am not," flashed Miss Theodosia gamely. "There must be one little
+dreamer of love dreams left."
+
+"Show her to me."
+
+"That isn't fair. I'm not in a way to know girls. I know just Stefana."
+
+"And Evangeline."
+
+"And Evangeline," laughed Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Is she romantic?" demanded the Story Man. And there he had Miss
+Theodosia. She had instant vision of Evangeline growing, straight and
+thrifty already, on her own small roots. It was not possible to
+visualize a blushing--a clinging little Evangeline.
+
+"She is still young," Miss Theodosia murmured. "Besides, she's one of a
+kind. There's only one Evangeline. You can't reason by only one of
+anything. The exception proves the rule."
+
+"Then you yield me Evangeline?"
+
+"Yes, you may have her on your side," conceded Miss Theodosia
+generously. It was rather in the way of a relief to shift the
+responsibility for Evangeline. Miss Theodosia suddenly bubbled into low
+laughter.
+
+"She is going to be a plumber."
+
+"Evangeline a plumber?"
+
+"Yes, because she's got to be rich, she says. She's 'sick 'n' tired' of
+being poor, and you can make such _darlin_', roary, snappy fires in a
+tin pail! Plumberin' will be fun."
+
+He laughed a little, too, enjoyingly, but returned to his arguings. Said
+he:
+
+"_Be_ a plumber, not marry one, you see. What did I tell you? Oh, you
+have no monopoly on Evangelines! The woods are full of tame Evangelines,
+anyway. You will have to come over to my side."
+
+"Not at all. I haven't given up my own side. I shall hold on a little
+while longer. I am not going to admit _yet_ that all sentiment is dead
+and buried. And, anyhow, I don't see what it's being dead or alive has
+to do with your story. I thought authors were creators. Can't you create
+a little sentiment--romance? To my order?" she added demurely.
+
+Replied the Story Man with grave eyes: "I shall do my best. We are a
+good deal at the mercy of our heroines. But I will do all that I can to
+win mine over, dear lady. Heaven knows I want to!"
+
+"Then you are on my side now; you have changed your mind!" she cried
+tauntingly. "Woman, thy name is not Fickleness, it is thy husband's
+name! Well, I am glad it is going to be my kind of a story. How did I
+know but it was to be a historical novel or a problem story--ugh! And,
+instead, you're going to make love to your heroine in the dear old
+thrilly way."
+
+He stirred in his seat, and his eyes sought his hostess. But Miss
+Theodosia's eyes were cheerfully following the infinitesimal stitches
+with which she was rimming an infinitesimal round hole in the bit of
+linen in her hand.
+
+"How far have you got?" she questioned over a new stitch.
+
+"Not very far," sadly; "I think I am a little afraid of my heroine."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Well, I think I'd take her by the ear and march her
+round to suit myself! If I wanted her to say '_yes_'--do you want her to
+say 'yes'?"
+
+Did he want her to say yes!
+
+"I'm trying to lead her up to it," he said gently. Miss Theodosia bit
+off her thread.
+
+"March her up to it, march her! You're too gentle with her. What is the
+use of being a Story Man? Might as well be a plumber like Evangeline!"
+
+It was at this moment that Evangeline appeared on the little Flagg
+horizon. They saw her coming their way, loaded as usual with Elly
+Precious. The sag of her wiry little figure on the Elly Precious side
+appealed strongly to Miss Theodosia. She dropped her foolish bit of
+linen and hurried to meet that little sag. When she came back with Elly
+Precious in her own arms, the Story Man was wandering away. He waved his
+hat to them smilingly.
+
+"Please drop him--drop Elly Precious," Evangeline said, "anywheres
+_soft_. I don't want him to distrack your mind. You play with your dolly
+an' be a darlin' dear, Elly Precious, while we talk."
+
+Very gently Evangeline subtracted Elly Precious from Miss Theodosia and
+removed him to an undisturbing distance. Then she returned and stood
+before Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Stefana was born to-morrow," Evangeline stated gravely. "You didn't
+know, of course, nor neither did I till it kind of came out. I told
+him," nodding in the direction taken by the Story Man. "We plotted up a
+hatch--I mean we hatched up a plot. He said to talk it over with you. I
+don't know what he's goin' to do, but he'll do it--he said he would. An'
+I thought--I thought--" Unwonted hesitations disturbed Evangeline's
+smooth flow of speech. She sat down suddenly.
+
+"I guess I can say it easier sittin' than I could standin'. It's some
+hard to say--it's so kind of _bareheaded_. But I don't know what else
+to do. You see, Stefana'd hear me beatin' the eggs an' stirrin', if I
+did 'em at home. An' besides, it would fall--oh, mercy gracious, I know
+it would! I thought if I could do it over here--"
+
+"Evangeline," Miss Theodosia said gently, "drop your voice at a period
+and begin all over with a capital letter. Take your time, dear."
+
+Said Evangeline with a sigh: "I'll try standin' up. I guess I kind of
+mixed you up, didn't I? You see, what I _meant_ was, could I make
+Stefana's birthday cake over here to your house where she can't hear me
+stirrin'?"
+
+"Oh, Stefana's birthday! That is why she was 'born to-morrow.'"
+
+"Yes'm, in a thunder storm. I've heard Mother tellin'. It will have to
+be a graham cake."
+
+"A--what kind of cake, Evangeline? Maybe you'd better try sitting down;
+I don't think I just understand."
+
+"No'm, no'm, I guess you wouldn't, because you probably can always 'ford
+white flour. I thought if I frosted it over real white, it would hide
+the grahamness. I've got two eggs."
+
+Understanding came to Miss Theodosia, though a little slowly. Was she
+growing stupid?
+
+"Evangeline, we'll make Stefana's cake together; we'll take turns
+'stirrin''! We'll do it over here and keep it a beautiful secret."
+
+The child was standing up now certainly, her wiry little body a-tilt
+with excitement, a-quiver with it. Evangeline's eyes shone.
+
+"Oh, I knew you would! I knew you would! You're such a _nangel!_ If you
+was a kind of folks that liked to be kissed--"
+
+The soft pink of Miss Theodosia's cheeks! She lifted her head and sat
+very still.
+
+"Come and try me, dear. Maybe I am that kind of folks." And in a little
+whirlwind of tender gratitude descended Evangeline upon her. It was a
+whole-souled kiss, the only brand possible to Evangeline.
+
+"I--I am that kind!" gasped Miss Theodosia, emerging laughing but
+tender-eyed. "Now let's begin the cake."
+
+"Oh, yes, mercy gracious, yes! I'll go get the eggs 'n' graham flour,
+an'--an' molasses. Could we sweeten it with molasses, Miss Theodosia?
+It'll take all o' my sugar for the frostin'. We are pretty used to bein'
+sweetened with molasses--"
+
+Miss Theodosia had a swift mental taste on her tongue of Stefana's
+graham birthday cake, molasses-sweet. There were her heartstrings at
+their odd little twitching again!
+
+"You won't have to go home at all, Evangeline. I've got all the
+materials--" but at sight of the child's face, a little fallen and
+troubled, she hastily appended--"except the eggs. I guess you'd better
+go home and get those."
+
+"Two!" sang Evangeline joyously, already on her way; "I've got two.
+Two's a lot of eggs, isn't it?"
+
+They mixed and beat and stirred together, and Evangeline never knew how
+many more eggs than two went into the rich golden batter. Elly Precious,
+tied for safety-first into one of Miss Theodosia's chairs, looked on
+with an interest more or less intermittent; when Evangeline's offerings
+of "teeny speckles" of toothsome batter were delayed, the interest
+flagged. The baking time was for Evangeline a period of utmost
+anxiety--there were so many direful things that might happen to
+Stefana's cake. If it fell down or burned up--
+
+"Oh!" she breathed with infinite relief when the strain was over, and
+only lovely things had happened to the cake, "I'm so happy I could sing
+if I had any vocal strings! That's queer about me, isn't it? I don't
+have any trouble with my _talkin'_ strings."
+
+"Not a bit," agreed Miss Theodosia gayly. "What makes you think you
+couldn't sing?"
+
+"Because once I tried to sing Elly Precious to sleep an' it woke him up,
+awfully up. He was scared. So I always talk him to sleep. Miss
+Theodosia, don't birthday cakes sometimes have candles round the edge of
+'em? I don't mean Stefana's, of course, but rich folks' birthday cakes."
+
+"_I_ mean Stefana's. Evangeline, we'll have thirteen candles!" but
+inwardly she was wondering if forty would not fit better round the edge
+of aged little Stefana's birthday cake. "And we'll decorate it--write
+something on the top, you know. We'll make the Story Man do it for us."
+
+Evangeline was awed into near-silence. "You mean--poetry? Mercy
+gracious, poetry!"
+
+"Something lovely," nodded Miss Theodosia a little vaguely. If it be
+poetry, the Story Man must do that part, too. A little later, when
+Evangeline had shouldered Elly Precious and departed and the Story Man
+had sauntered again into sight, she hailed him with relief. Displaying
+the snowy little cake, she explained the situation.
+
+"You must do the rest. We want a 'sentiment' on it, Evangeline and I.
+What is the use of being a literary person if you cannot inscribe a
+birthday cake?"
+
+He groaned a little, reminiscently. He remembered the autograph albums
+of his bashful youth. How much better than an autograph album was a
+frosted cake?
+
+"Something appropriate, you know," encouraged Miss Theodosia, brightly.
+"In lovely pink writing on top."
+
+"'She hath starched what she could,'" he offered tentatively.
+
+"Oh, for shame! Something nice and romantic."
+
+"But romance is dead--hold on, I beg pardon! That is not decided yet; I
+remember. You shall have your poetry, you and Evangeline. Something
+after this wise:
+
+ "'Our most esteemed Stefana,
+ May rough winds never pain her'
+
+"Do winds 'pain' people? But, to speak modestly, I call that a pretty
+neat sentiment to turn out extempo like that. 'Stefana'--you can't deny
+Stefana is a hard word to rhyme with. Now tell me a harder one!"
+
+"Evangeline--Theodosia," she murmured. Her eyes dwelt lovingly on the
+little white cake. He should not make fun of it!
+
+"I'll decorate it myself," she said, "I'll have a little pink heart on
+it--_two_ little pink hearts."
+
+"With but a single thought. Make them with but a single thought--beat
+them as one. There! I'm perfectly sober and sane now. It's a fine little
+cake, and I'm not worthy to write poetry for it. Longfellow--
+Shakespeare--Whitcomb Riley--we'll canvass them. Don't think
+I'm not respectful to Stefana's birthday."
+
+"I don't know what you call respect!" she retorted. But she knew the
+next day. She found out what he called respect. The knowledge came, as
+so much that was worth while came, through Evangeline, Elly Precious in
+its wake. They came running this time. Elly Precious' small body rolled
+and lurched with their hurry and the agitation of Evangeline's soul.
+
+"Somethin's--happened."
+
+"Give me the baby. Sit down, dear. Now."
+
+"The flower wagon brought Stefana--roses," whispered Evangeline. "In a
+long box--an' tissue paper. Oh, my mercy gracious, stopped right
+straight at our house! An' nobody dead." Evangeline's whisper rose to a
+weird little cry. The wonder of the flower wagon stopping right
+straight! And every one alive!
+
+"Stefana's countin' 'em. I guess she's counted 'em a hundred times.
+They's--thirteen! They've got the longest stems you ever _saw_! Stefana
+can't get over their stems; she said they most made her cry."
+
+For very breath Evangeline stopped. Over the little uneasy head of Elly
+Precious shone Miss Theodosia's eyes. Miss Theodosia was softly
+thrilled. The stems appealed, too, to her; she loved them long--long.
+
+"Roses, you say?" Oh, Evangeline! Birthday roses for Stefana! What
+color?"
+
+"Red--red--red," chanted Evangeline "Thirteen red roses an' thirteen
+long stems. In a pasteboard box with 'Miss Stefana Flagg' wrote on it.
+You ought to seen how Miss Stefana Flagg looked! She--she kissed the
+box. I guess now she's kissin' the roses. She never 'spected to have any
+roses till she was dead. An' then she couldn't 've kissed 'em an' cried
+at the stems," added Evangeline softly. She was suddenly a softened
+little Evangeline, curiously gentled by Stefana's sweet, red roses. Miss
+Theodosia caught her breath at the sight of the child's face and the
+thought of Stefana kissing her roses.
+
+"I wish--I wish you'd go over an' congratcherlate Stefana," whispered
+Evangeline. "She'd be so tickled. I'll keep Elly Precious ever here, an'
+Carruthers is playin' ball in a field." As though this ceremony of
+'congratcherlation' demanded quiet and privacy.
+
+And by and by Miss Theodosia went. She had a whimsical impulse to carry
+her little silver card case, but she did not yield to the whimsey. She
+did take off her little white apron and smoothe her hair. Stefana to-day
+was a person for ceremonies and respect. Oh, the kindness, the clearness
+of those long-stemmed roses! She had not thought to do it herself, but
+he--a man creature--Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender.
+
+Stefana was still sitting among her roses. They lay across her lap.
+
+"Oh! Oh, come right in, Miss Theodosia!" she cried welcomingly. "But
+please to excuse me for not getting up--I can't bear to disturb them.
+Seems as if I could sit right straight in this chair till they withered!
+I'm breathing easy so not to breathe the smell out. I never had any
+roses before."
+
+Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. She whispered a little laugh.
+
+"Seems as if I'd ought to be married while I have 'em! They're such
+beautiful roses to be married in!"
+
+And this was Stefana, their matter-of-fact, starchy little white-washer!
+This rapt, dreamy little face was Stefana's face!
+
+"Sometimes," Stefana murmured, "sometimes I've dreampt--" but Miss
+Theodosia did not quite catch what it was Stefana had sometimes
+"dreampt," but it was something sweet. Stefana a little dreamer of sweet
+dreams! One of them must have been a rose-dream, and this was that dream
+come true.
+
+The call of congratulation was a brief one. It seemed little short of
+irreverence to have seen at all that picture of Stefana rocking her
+roses in the little wooden rocker. Miss Theodosia slipped away with it
+hung on the walls of her mind--she would never take it down.
+
+John Bradford was coming along the road and she went a little way to
+meet him. Some of Stefana's radiance was in her own face.
+
+"I've found it," she announced in soft triumph.
+
+"Good!" he hazarded at random. It was always good to find things. But he
+wondered at the radiance.
+
+"My romance that I knew was somewhere. I've found it! I told you so!"
+
+"Found it where?" he demanded. He was unconsciously stirred by her
+emotion. He followed her glance to the little House of Flaggs.
+"Not--there?"
+
+"Yes, there. Stefana is dreaming it over a lapful of red roses. I have
+been there and seen her. Is romance dead--is it? Go and look at
+Stefana!" But she held him back from going. "No, no, I didn't mean it!
+Not in cold blood--I didn't go in cold blood. You will have to take my
+word for it."
+
+"I will take your word."
+
+"That romance is not dead?"
+
+"That romance is alive. But who would have thought of it's being
+_Stefana_!"
+
+"Who would have thought!" echoed Miss Theodosia.
+
+Elly Precious was fretting restlessly when she got back. The children
+were on the porch.
+
+"Nothing's the matter with him," Evangeline explained, "unless it's
+because he's a-goin' to be taken. I told him he was. It is kind of
+scaring to be taken. I feel kind of that way, too."
+
+"Taken where?"
+
+"Not any where--just _taken_. His picture an' mine an'
+Carruthers'--we're all goin' to be taken now, pretty soon. I must go
+home an' prink Elly Precious an' Carruthers. You see, Mr. Bradford
+promised to take Stefana because it's her birthday, an' first we knew he
+said he'd take all o' us! He's got a camera. That's him now! I guess
+he's waitin' for Elly Precious an' me."
+
+She was hurrying away, but bethought herself of something. "The cake!"
+she said. "If Elly Precious'll be still, I can carry it on my other arm.
+Maybe we'll be so busy being taken that I can't come over again before
+supper."
+
+"Run along," Miss Theodosia said; "I'll take it over. I haven't quite
+got it ready yet," for there were the two little pink hearts to
+add,--Stefana's heart and a little dream-heart. She smiled tenderly over
+the fashioning of those little pink hearts. Miss Theodosia was not an
+artist--they wavered and leaned, but they leaned toward each other!
+Perhaps they were better to be little leaning hearts.
+
+She carried the cake over, covered with a napkin. There were other
+things, too, that she had prepared, and several trips were necessary. A
+mold of quivering, scarlet jelly, full of fascinating glints of light;
+scalloped, currant-rich cookies, a little platter of cold chicken--Miss
+Theodosia carried them all over covered with napkins.
+
+Evangeline was putting the finishing touches to the supper-table, which
+was brave with the best Flagg dishes. It was rather a pitiful little
+bravery, but satisfying to Evangeline. She hurried Miss Theodosia aside
+and talked very fast.
+
+"I've sent Stefana out with Elly Precious. We're goin' to blind her an'
+lead her in an' count one--two--_look_! She'll see the cake the very
+quickest thing! She won't cut off an inch o' the stems, so they're kind
+of tall up 'n' down, you see. I mean the roses. I've put a corset steel
+o' Mother's in an' kind of tied 'em to it. I hope you don't see any
+corset steel."
+
+"No." Miss Theodosia looked not at the centerpiece of roses but at the
+cake, the tremulous jelly, the platter,--anywhere else. "No, I don't see
+any, dear."
+
+"It's perfectly lovely, isn't it? Mercy gracious--oh, mercy gracious!
+It'll _dazzle_ Stefana. An' most every speck you did, Miss Theodosia.
+Won't you please stay? Won't you _please_ to please?"
+
+"No," for the sixth time persisted Miss Theodosia. "I'm going before
+Stefana gets back. This is a Flagg celebration, dear. Just little
+Flaggs."
+
+Evangeline drew a long breath. Then little twinkles lighted in her eyes.
+
+"Well," she said, "they'll be star-spangled Flaggs to-night!"
+
+She followed Miss Theodosia to the door. Even then she could not stop
+talking. Her excited little voice followed Miss Theodosia home.
+
+"He took us! He's blue-printing us to see if we wiggled. Elly Precious
+did--mercy gracious! But maybe one of him, just one, didn't. He's goin'
+to make reg'lar black an' white pictures of the unwiggled ones. I guess
+you'll be surprised when you see us!" She was surprised. John Bradford
+brought the little blue pictures to her the next day. They bent over
+them together.
+
+"Oh!" Miss Theodosia uttered softly, for the pictures were instantly
+tangled in her heartstrings. She could hardly bear the one unwiggled one
+of Elly Precious. He was draped in tall red roses; they covered his
+little body and trailed their stems about his outspread legs. He had the
+effect of peeping at Miss Theodosia through roses. But what she could
+see of him was Elly Precious--her baby.
+
+"Stefana posed him," the Story Man said, smilingly. "And Evangeline and
+Carruthers, too. Look at Evangeline."
+
+Across Evangeline trailed the roses. It was a rigid, terribly rigid,
+Evangeline, but the roses saved her. Some softening grace emanated from
+them and touched the solemn little face. A little more of Evangeline
+than of Elly Precious peeped from behind them.
+
+"Carruthers!--et, tu, Carruthers!" murmured Miss Theodosia. For here
+again was the trail of the roses. Stefana had "posed" them in all the
+little pictures. The effect of a rose-draped Carruthers was almost
+startling. He gazed from behind them stolidly, unsmiling and
+unhappy-souled. Carruthers did not enjoy being taken.
+
+"Now look at Stefana," John Bradford said. This was his special
+exhibit--exhibit S. He watched Miss Theodosia's face as she glanced at
+the little blue print.
+
+No roses trailing there. Just a radiant-faced Stefana gazing at Miss
+Theodosia. It was the same face that hung on the walls of her memory.
+Miss Theodosia had the sense of roses there, out of sight; it was as if
+Stefana rocked them gently in her lap.
+
+"She wouldn't wear the flowers herself," the Story Man was saying;
+"Neither Evangeline nor I could make her. Queer little freak."
+
+"She is wearing them!" smiled Miss Theodosia, "I can see them. It's only
+because you are a man that you can't see,--you and Evangeline! Look at
+the roses in Stefana's eyes--in her soul--"
+
+"Oh, you woman! Women are curious things."
+
+"Women are romantic things--oh, you man! Why should you understand us
+Stefanas with your unsentimental soul-of-a-man? What do you know about
+our dreams?" She had not meant to say quite that. "Stefana's dreams,"
+she corrected herself. "What do you know about them? And still--"
+
+Miss Theodosia looked up from the radiant little face of Stefana with
+her dream-roses to the man-face beside her own.
+
+"And still--you sent the roses," she said softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+A letter came to Miss Theodosia one day. Queer how disturbing a letter
+could be when for so long peace had enveloped her travel-worn spirit,
+though it might have been because of the peace that she was disturbed.
+Ordinarily a letter from Cornelia Dunlap was the forerunner of
+interesting events to break the monotony of life. But life was not
+monotonous now, and it presented interesting events without the
+intervention--mentally and unkindly Miss Theodosia termed it
+interference--of Cornelia Dunlap.
+
+"Why need Cornelia write me now, or if she does write, why can't she
+talk about mushrooms?" which were Cornelia's most recent palliative to
+her self-imposed and brief sojourns in her little home town. It had been
+cats when she and Miss Theodosia returned from Spain, Belgian hares
+after their long stay in Egypt. Miss Theodosia herself had never tried
+mushrooms nor Belgian hares. She had borne her short homecomings
+unpalliated, and had flitted again relievedly. Usually she and Cornelia
+Dunlap had flitted together. They had formed the flitting habit when
+family bereavements had left them both lonely women.
+
+"Why must she write about Japan?" sighed Miss Theodosia now, over the
+disturbing letter. "What do I care about Japan?" Yet she always had
+cared about Japan. Cornelia Dunlap and she had left that delectable
+country of cherry blossoms and quaint, kimona-ed women for their old
+age, they said, to help them bear it. But Cornelia had forgotten that.
+
+"Let's go to Japan," she wrote. "I can pack in twenty-four hours; how
+long will it take you? We'll stay there till cherry blossom time.
+Frankly, Theodosia Baxter, I am bored, and you needn't tell me that you
+aren't--frankly--too. You haven't even mushrooms (they didn't earn their
+own living, my dear. I don't know what the trouble was). 'My native
+country, thee,'--I love it. I tell you I do! You know yourself that I
+never stay overnight in a place without unfurling my country's flag.
+Remember in sunny Italy?--the little brown bambino that cheered my
+colors? But I love my country best--in Japan! Come, dear, pack--pack! If
+I can leave my mushrooms, I guess you can leave your lonesome, big house
+in Nowhere."
+
+Miss Theodosia dreamed a little over her letter, of the little island of
+romance and flowers and fans. They did not need to wait; they could go
+again when they were old.
+
+She told John Bradford at their next meeting of the lure of Japan,
+though in her heart she was not lured. She was not "bored"; it was not a
+big, lonesome house in Nowhere! She would tell Cornelia Dunlap so. She
+would tell her that Flaggs were better than mushrooms--they earned their
+own living! Cornelia could run away alone to Japan to her cherry
+blossoms.
+
+But John Bradford had his scare, and through him Evangeline hers. Gloom
+settled on Evangeline. If her beloved lady was going away--the bitter,
+bitter taste of life without the beloved lady! But the inspiration that
+flashed into Evangeline's nimble mind temporarily comforted her. She set
+about its carrying-out. Inspirations were sweet morsels under
+Evangeline's tongue.
+
+To Miss Theodosia on her porch, telling Cornelia Dunlap that Japan had
+no lure, came a solemn procession across the grass. Evangeline led, with
+the effect of walking backward--though she walked straight ahead--and
+waving a baton. Stefana had Elly Precious, and Carrathers tramped
+soberly behind, in time to that imaginary wand. Miss Theodosia's
+fascinated gaze was riveted to the procession's arms. The wonder grew
+with nearness. Every individual parader in the procession wore a somber
+black arm-band. Elly Precious held his small member straight out from
+his side as if a little afraid of it.
+
+"Evangeline!" uttered Miss Theodosia. It did not occur to her to address
+any one but Evangeline. Instinctively she recognized that the procession
+was Evangeline.
+
+"Halt!" with an imaginary flourish. "Right about your faces!" Then
+Evangeline turned to Miss Theodosia and offered her sad little
+explanation.
+
+"We're in mournin'," she said. "All of us are--on our sleeves. Elly
+Precious's doesn't stay on very well."
+
+"Evangeline!" again cried Miss Theodosia, this time in a startled voice.
+Fears beset her. Was it the mother, or had poor Aunt Sarah raveled out?
+How could it have happened so suddenly--a bolt out of the clear little
+Flagg skies?
+
+"It's you," Evangeline said. Miss Theodosia settled a little in her
+chair and waited. In time--Evangeline's time--she would know. Elly
+Precious held out his rigid little mourning arm and softly whimpered.
+
+"Give him to me, Stefana; he wants to come to me," Miss Theodosia said,
+extending welcoming hands. Very gently she relieved the tension of the
+small arm.
+
+"We're in mournin' for you," Evangeline explained sadly. "_He_ said we
+might as well make up our minds, I tied a stockin' round his arm, but he
+took it off again because he said he didn't wear his stockin's--no, I
+guess it wasn't his stockin's; it was his heart--on his sleeves. But he
+said he was in mournin', too."
+
+Miss Theodosia gave it up. She appealed to Stefana in gentle despair.
+
+"You tell me, dear. What does she mean?"
+
+"We're so sorry you are going to Japan, and Evangeline said we ought to
+go into mourning, so we went," explained the quiet Stefana.
+
+"She cried; you know you did, Stefana Flagg! I would've, only I was
+gettin' the mournin' ready. I'm _goin_' to."
+
+"Don't cry!" Miss Theodosia said, though she was doing it herself. The
+pulling of her heartstrings! "Don't cry, Evangeline dear. I wish we
+could take back Stefana's tears."
+
+"You mean--you ain't goin'?"
+
+"I ain't goin'," repeated Miss Theodosia, tremulously smiling. "Japan! I
+wouldn't go to _six_ Japans!"
+
+"Then take it off o' our arms, quick! You take off Carruthers', Stefana.
+I'll undo Elly Precious's. Oh, goody! Oh, mercy gracious, I feel 's if
+we ought to take hold o' hands an'--an' _wave_!"
+
+At the end of her letter to Cornelia Dunlap Miss Theodosia wrote: "You
+can't tempt me with all your cherry blossoms. I've got home, Cornelia,
+and all my little Flaggs are waving. Come and see _my_ Flaggs."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+It was mid-September and Miss Theodosia found out-of-doors a pleasant
+place to be. She had made an errand down to the business portion of the
+little town for the sheer pleasure of the going and coming,--a morning
+errand, as the afternoons were sacred to tea,--and now was coming
+leisurely back, sniffing the sun-sweet air. She turned off the quiet,
+side street she had been using as a long way home, into the main street
+of the town, only to find her progress interrupted by unseemly and noisy
+crowds. Miss Theodosia loved all things seemly and quiet. How she
+despised a crowd, and this one--she brought up short in actual disgust
+on the outer edge of it. Thus was her stately little progress stayed.
+People surged about her and jostled her good-naturedly. She was in the
+crowd.
+
+"What is it? Has there been an accident?" she inquired of the nearest
+jostler. It was a ragged and radiant child.
+
+"Axident! Didn't ye know there was a circus? We're waitin' for the
+p'rade. I hear it! I hear it comin'!"
+
+The crowd surged ahead toward the street curb. Against her will, Miss
+Theodosia surged, too. Loud cries filled her ears--ecstatic cries of
+little children. Down the usually quiet street marched, in all its
+brilliancy of color and tinsel and tawdry splendor, the street parade.
+Horses curvetted, elephants patiently plodded, huge cars of mystery
+swung by; clowns smirked, to the riotous joy of that awful crowd.
+
+"See him sittin' tail to! That one there--there!"
+
+"Look-a that one with the spotted panth! Look at him throw kitheth!"
+
+"They's man-eatin' lions in that cage--see the lady sittin' with 'em!"
+
+"See that man top o' the band waggin that shoots up his neck
+_yards_--quick! See him shorten it again!"
+
+Miss Theodosia saw all, against her will. All her thirty-six years she
+had held aside her dainty skirts from people who went to circuses, but
+how could she hold them aside now? There was not room. She was caught in
+the swirl and noise and glee.
+
+Suddenly a familiar voice struck her ear. Evangeline's voice! Drawn up
+on the curbing in a vantage-spot that only they who come early and
+patiently wait can secure, was the entire family of little Flaggs. At a
+new angle Miss Theodosia was able to see plainly their breathless
+ecstasy. She could hear what Evangeline was saying.
+
+"Oh, isn't it elegant--oh, look, Stefana! Oh, don't you hope circuses'll
+be free in Heaven--not jus' the p'rade, but the show!"
+
+Then and there Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed unmercifully; she
+could not do anything with them; they would throb. In vain she turned
+away--looked at other faces--listened to other voices. It was Evangeline
+she heard, with her wistful cry, and the little line of Flaggs that she
+saw.
+
+"There's Miss Theodosia--there, there, Stefana! She's come to the
+p'rade!"
+
+"Miss Theodosia! Miss Theodosia! Look, Elly Precious, quick!" And it was
+Elly Precious she saw, held high by eager arms. That minute she yielded
+to the wild impulse within. She pressed forward to speaking distance.
+
+"Who will go to the show with me this afternoon? All in favor say aye."
+
+"Mercy gracious, you don't honest mean--"
+
+"Miss Theodosia!" Stefana's lean little face actually whitened.
+
+"I honest mean. Isn't anybody going to say aye?"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+"I!"
+
+The joyous chorus of "I's"! The jubilant waving of every little Flagg!
+For the moment, the gorgeous tinseled parade was forgotten in the vaster
+anticipative glories of the show. Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed
+a little louder but tunefully. She had forgotten her skirts.
+
+Shows begin early and last long. Miss Theodosia's show began at the
+opening of the gates. She and her little string of followers filed in.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Evangeline in awesome delight at the vision
+spread before her.
+
+"Mercy gracious!" breathed Miss Theodosia. They were different mercy
+graciouses. But a miracle was on the way to her, coming straight and
+fast through the crowds of festive circus-goers. Very soon now--in an
+hour--in another moment--It arrived! Miss Theodosia felt herself
+yielding to the lure of the sawdust and the side shows--the pink
+lemonade and the balloons. She was entering in! She was not Miss
+Theodosia who detested crowds; in the tight grip of the miracle, she was
+Miss Theodosia who thrilled and enjoyed.
+
+"Isn't it elegant? Oh, aren't you happy!" cried Evangeline.
+
+"Aren't I!" gallant Miss Theodosia responded. She caught Evangeline's
+sleeve. "What is that man shouting about--there, in front of that big
+tent?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, but it's somethin' splendid. I know it's somethin'
+splendid! I'll go 'n' see."
+
+"I'll go with you. Stefana, stay with the rest of the children. We'll be
+right back." Miss Theodosia laughed as she and Evangeline went, hand in
+hand. In a moment they were back for the rest. It was "somethin'
+splendid"--come! come!
+
+They drank pink lemonade and ate ice-cream cones. Elly Precious and
+Carruthers waved gay balloons. Evangeline chose a cane.
+
+"I need one. I'm so happy I tumble over! I never was so happy 'xcept
+when Elly Precious stopped havin' the measles. That was as splendid as
+this, but it wasn't as _splendid_ splendid. Miss Theodosia, don't you
+feel all beautiful and jiggy inside?"
+
+"All beautiful and jiggy!" nodded Miss Theodosia, wondering a little
+whether it was all circus or some pink lemonade.
+
+"I like the wholeness of it best," Stefana said, taking in the animated
+scene with an artist's eye.
+
+"I don't! I like the every little speckness of it," Evangeline chirped.
+"I like that 'normous big tent an' that tiny little one--I like that
+balloon man--I like that little darky baby--isn't he black as the ace of
+space, Miss Theodosia! Oh, I like every blade o'--sawdust!" Her laugh
+trilled out gayly.
+
+"But we haven't seen it yet--the show."
+
+"Miss Theodosia! You don't honest mean we're goin' in? Stefana, she
+does--she means! We're goin' in!" As of course they were. The best seats
+in the great tented arena were none too good for them. Stefana
+laboriously shut up Elly Precious' go-cart, and Miss Theodosia lifted
+Elly Precious in her arms. In the procession they sought those
+best-of-all seats. What followed, even Evangeline gazed upon in silence;
+there were no words in Evangeline's dictionary for what followed. She
+sat on the edge of the best-of-all seat and drank in riders and clowns
+and dizzy performing fairies--an intoxicating draught.
+
+"Miss Theodosia," in a tiny whisper.
+
+"Yes, dear?"
+
+"Ain't you glad you ain't dead? 'Cause you don't need to be." Which was
+Evangeline's way of complimenting Heaven. There was no need of dying to
+find out its marvels--not now. Miss Theodosia slipped one of the small
+hands into hers and squeezed it; squeezing established understanding.
+They knew--they understood.
+
+"Well, upon my word!" a deep voice exclaimed behind them. With one
+accord Miss Theodosia and her Flaggs wheeled about. The Tract
+Man--Shadow Man--Reformed Doctor stood there, smiling. He was eating
+popcorn from a paper bag. Transferring the bag to Evangeline, he held
+out his hands for the baby.
+
+"You here?" Miss Theodosia exclaimed stupidly.
+
+"Yes--are you?"
+
+Every one laughed. Laughing was so easy! Elly Precious from his lofty
+shoulder-post clapped small, joyous hands and crowed. In the ring a
+clown threw them kisses. A fairy in short, silvery skirts rode by on two
+horses. "Wait! Watch her--watch her!" Evangeline whispered hissingly.
+"She's goin' to jump through a hoop o' fire! Without burnin' up!"
+
+John Bradford leaned forward to Miss Theodosia.
+
+"Having a good time?" he whispered.
+
+"Grand! Are you?"
+
+"Hunkydory!" He might have been a boy, she a girl. These might have been
+little Flagg brothers--sisters.
+
+"We must have cones--ice-cream cones," he said.
+
+"We've had 'em," piped Evangeline.
+
+"We must have more cones, and cracker-jack."
+
+"We've had crackerjack."
+
+"We must have more crackerjack. Where is the Crackerjack Boy?"
+
+At the end of the show in the ring they took a vote and decided to stay
+to see it all over again. What did it matter if they had seen the tinsel
+fairy jump through her fiery hoop or the acrobats perform their wonders?
+They felt acquainted now. They were gazing, enchanted, at friends.
+
+"My clown's lookin' at me! I'm goin' to bow to him."
+
+"Mine's threw me a kiss!"
+
+Stefana, more refined in taste, had adopted a beauteous creature in gold
+and blue, and starry spangles. Her beauteous lady waved a scepter at her
+as she glided by.
+
+"She's got so many ruffles on! An' they're beau-ti-fully done up!"
+sighed Stefana in gentle envy of some unknown artist in starch.
+
+"Now what?" demanded the man of the party at length. "Anybody want to
+stay here any longer? Or shall we discover new territory?" He took
+Evangeline aside and questioned her.
+
+"Have you seen everything out there?" indicating the attractions without
+the big tent.
+
+"We've seen a nawful lot. We've had a nelegant time," Evangeline
+whispered back. Desire and loyalty to Miss Theodosia fought a duel in
+her small breast and the issue was yet doubtful.
+
+"Isn't there something left that you'd like to see?" The order was
+changed; here was man tempting woman. Desire won the duel with one
+mighty blow. Evangeline tiptoed up as near his ear as possible and
+breathed two words.
+
+John Bradford turned to the little crowd.
+
+"We'll go to see the Fat Lady," he said to Miss Theodosia; "I'll take
+the kiddies, while you sit down somewhere and rest.
+
+"Sit down somewhere? Haven't I been sitting down somewhere? Don't you
+suppose I want to see the Fat Lady, too?" laughed Miss Theodosia. Fat
+ladies appealed to her invitingly, in this remarkable mood of hers--Miss
+Theodosia's circus mood.
+
+"You're playing the game like a trump! I didn't dream you could
+'pretend' a circus was yours. Must be some harder than pretending
+babies--" John Bradford got no farther. She turned indignant eyes upon
+him.
+
+"'Game'--'pretend'--I'd have you know I'm having a nelegant time! You
+must be the Pretender."
+
+"Me? I'm having the time of my life! I am going to put a circus into my
+love story."
+
+"This circus?"
+
+"This identical one."
+
+"With me and the little Flaggs in it?"
+
+"You--and the little Flaggs."
+
+They had fallen behind the children, and a side eddy of the crowd had
+flowed between. The Fat Lady was at the further end of the grounds, but
+there was no hurry; she would remain just as fat a Fat Lady if they
+pleasantly dallied a little. Stefana had, with the deftness of
+genius-born skill, solved the puzzle of opening the folded-up go-cart,
+and the Man Person of the party was no longer burdened with Elly
+Precious.
+
+Suddenly into the pleasant dallying leaped Carruthers with terrified
+little face.
+
+"They're lost! We can't find 'em! I can't an' Stefana can't. They ain't
+anywhere! We were lookin' at a man with turkles you wind up, an' when we
+stopped lookin' they weren't there--not anywhere. They ain't anywhere!
+Not any--'
+
+"Stop him!" begged Miss Theodosia. "He'll keep right on anywhere-ing. We
+must find Stefana."
+
+"Stefana said--oh, I couldn't hear what Stefana said, but she pointed
+an' pointed, an' I came lickety. They're lost! They ain't anywhere!"
+
+Stefana appearing here, the story was repeated. Like that--Stefana
+snapped her fingers--they had disappeared.
+
+"I've hunted and hunted. Everybody's seen children with go-carts, but
+they weren't Evangeline 'n' Elly Precious."
+
+Miss Theodosia's own face was pale, but she achieved a light laugh.
+
+"No wonder you haven't found them yet! In this crowd. It takes
+time;--you tell them to be patient and we'll find the right go-cart."
+She appealed to the Man Person.
+
+"Sure, we'll find the right go-cart! Where do you think they could have
+vanished? Down a hole in the ground?"
+
+Miss Theodosia clapped her hands valiantly. "That's it! Evangeline found
+a hole and took Elly Precious down, to show him the White Rabbit and the
+Red Queen! Evangeline would love to be an Alice in Wonderland. Go and
+find the hole," to the Man Person. "I'll stay right in this spot with
+the children. See, in front of this ice-cream tent."
+
+"Good idea!--I'll bring them back with me unless you find them first."
+
+But they were not with him when he returned half an hour later. In spite
+of himself, he looked anxious.
+
+"Queer thing! What color dress did she have on? I've tried to remember."
+
+"Pink--oh, pink!" sobbed Stefana, "but it was most washed out. It had
+two tucks let down, an' it was limpy in the skirt, behind--the starch
+gave out." There were so many Evangelines, but it didn't seem as if
+there'd be another Evangeline limpy behind! "An' Elly Precious's lower
+teeth are through, and his shoes are buttoned inside, I remember now! We
+were in such a hurry--there wouldn't be another baby buttoned inside."
+
+After still further vain hunting, John Bradford sent the three home.
+
+"You may find Evangeline there, getting supper!" he said, "but I'll stay
+here on the chance you don't. I'll investigate every hole on the
+grounds! Don't anybody worry--now, mind! There's nothing to worry
+about."
+
+"Fat Lady!" Miss Theodosia suddenly exclaimed as one with inspiration.
+"We've never thought of her; that's where they've gone! Evangeline
+couldn't wait. She had some pennies."
+
+"I've investigated the Fat Lady--no good. They don't let go-carts in,
+and there weren't any outside. But, of course, I can go the whole
+figure, to make sure. I'll go all the whole figures. Can't you trust
+me?"
+
+"We can. Come, children. I'll coach you on Wonderland, so if Evangeline
+is there you'll know what she is seeing! Gryphons, Mock 'Turkles,' Mad
+Hatters--a circus within a circus! It's so much like Evangeline to find
+that White Rabbit hole!" Miss Theodosia clung determinedly to a cheerful
+view of the situation. But, secretly, she worried. As the time went on,
+she worried harder. Two babies--one wheeling the other! What was
+Evangeline but a baby?
+
+Miss Theodosia took the two little surviving Flaggs to her own home and
+plied them with goodies--many goodies. She unearthed from hiding-places
+candied ginger and guava jelly; she invented toys for the deaf little
+Flagg and occupations for Stefana. She found a dog-eared copy of
+"Alice," dear to her own childhood, and read to Stefana--anything to
+occupy the waiting. It was long waiting!
+
+It grew dark. Once Miss Theodosia heard heavy steps trying painstakingly
+to be light ones. She found the Man Person outside the door.
+
+"Nothing yet? You haven't any trace--" It was needless asking.
+
+"You don't think--"
+
+"Of course, I don't think! Nothing on earth could happen to those
+kiddies."
+
+"Automobiles--"
+
+"Aren't allowed on the grounds, and you couldn't have got Evangeline off
+the grounds with a tackle and falls. I know what I think."
+
+"Then tell it--mercy gracious!"
+
+"I think it's Evangeline that's happened. Mark my words! Now I'm going
+back again. I just came to--I suppose I thought I was coming to relieve
+your mind!" He laughed sorrily and softly.
+
+"Oh, go--yes, go! It's--it's long past Elly Precious' bedtime." He could
+hear soft sobbing as he went away. Miss Theodosia was mourning for her
+baby. The Man Person's throat tightened; he broke into a run.
+
+Stefana met Miss Theodosia at an inner door. She had her hat on and
+Carruthers by the hand.
+
+"I'm going home to put him to bed. I--I shan't look at the clothes
+basket. But if Elly Precious is dead, I'll put wh-white ribbons on the
+h-handles!" With a moan, Stefana threw herself into the kind arms of
+Elly Precious' friend who loved him, too!
+
+"Hush, dear! Elly Precious isn't dead, but I hope he is asleep.
+Evangeline, I know, will take care of him. Let's trust Evangeline."
+
+"Maybe she's dead, too!"
+
+"Stefana! I'm disappointed. I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+"I am!" sobbed Stefana, gathering herself together. Miss Theodosia
+watched her go quietly away, hand in hand with the little brother that
+was left. But Miss Theodosia was no longer brave. Sudden terrors seized
+upon her. She remembered how round and white Elly Precious was--how he
+showed the little teeth that had got through--how he had loved to watch
+Evangeline dance, through the window.
+
+"Theodosia Baxter, I'm disappointed! I thought you were a brave girl."
+
+As she stood in the moist darkness, a sound came to her--too soft for a
+man-sound. It grew a very little more distinct.
+
+"Miss Theodosia--sh! he's gettin' ready to go off. I want him to go off
+soon's I get him home--I don't want to 'xcite him. I jus' came to tell
+you--"
+
+"Evangeline! Have you got him there?"
+
+The softest of giggles. "Why, of course! He's too valuable to leave
+anywheres. Leave a Best Baby! That's the s'prise! He's a prize baby,
+Elly Precious is! I've got it in my pocket!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+"I've got to take him home an' bed him down!" Horsey little Evangeline!
+"Then I'll come back an' show it to you. Isn't it puffectly elegant that
+he took a prize! We've had the best time!" And in the darkness Miss
+Theodosia heard soft, retreating steps and the faintest creak of wheels.
+Left alone, she leaned for support on the porch pillar, overcome by the
+Evangelineness of Evangeline. And they had all had so far from the "best
+time"--they had suffered so!
+
+"Mercy gracious!" sighed Miss Theodosia weakly, but aloud.
+
+"What did I tell you?" The Man Person's voice! What kind of a ghostly
+night was this? "Didn't I say it was Evangeline that had happened, 'mark
+my words'? Well, wasn't it?"
+
+"Tell me instantly how she 'happened'! I'm all in the dark."
+
+"Same here. Can't see an inch before my nose. If we had a lamp--"
+
+"Didn't she tell you? Didn't she come home with you?"
+
+"No--no, I came home with her. Behind her--she didn't know. Wanted to
+let her do the whole thing alone. I confess I was curious."
+
+"Curious! After hunting hours and hours--"
+
+"'Curious--after--hunting--hours--and hours,'" he intoned. She could
+hear him getting ready to laugh. "The moment I caught sight of the
+little imp, I forgot I was tired. Whatever she's been up to, it's
+something interesting. May I wait and hear her tell about it?"
+
+"Of course you may! I should think you'd earned admittance." Miss
+Theodosia was sizzling gently with perfectly natural irritation. Now
+that her baby was safe, she had leisure to be irritated.
+
+"Come and rest in the easiest chair you can find. When I think--"
+
+"Don't think! Let's just have cups of tea and wait for the show to
+begin."
+
+"But why aren't you cross? I am."
+
+The man-voice in the dark was soothing.
+
+"Oh, no, you only think you are, dear lady. You are deceiving yourself.
+Crossness and--er--nerve-itis are two very different diseases (you note
+I term them both diseases). I speak as One Who Did Once Know."
+
+Miss Theodosia, on her way for cups of tea, paused in her dim doorway.
+
+"Diseases change so. In ten years--"
+
+"In ten years 'nerve-itis' has lost none of its pep--rather annexed
+more. It may have another name."
+
+"Nerve-itus Dance," murmured the voice in the doorway. "That's
+it--that's what I was having when you came. I don't think I am quite
+over the attack yet."
+
+"Three lumps of sugar dissolved in a cup of tea," prescribed the
+man-voice promptly. "Repeat the dose in five minutes. Never known to
+fail. As a preventive of--er--contagion, it is well for any also who
+have been exposed--"
+
+"I'll have it there in a minute. The kettle's boiling," called Miss
+Theodosia from interior regions. She came back presently with a tray lit
+by a tiny flare of candle-light.
+
+ "'How far that little candle throws his beams--
+ So shines a good deed in a naughty world'"
+
+quoted he. "The good deed is the good tea."
+
+"And the naughty world is Evangeline. Won't you have three lumps just
+this time, to make perfectly sure you don't contract my Nerve-itus
+Dance?"
+
+"Safety first," he laughed. "Four lumps. This is our first tea-party at
+'Candle-lighting Time,' isn't it?"
+
+Now Miss Theodosia laughed. It was easy to laugh with Elly Precious
+being bedded down instead of lost.
+
+"How you do quote to-night!" she said. "That's the third time, counting
+'Safety First,' in the last five minutes."
+
+"Pardon," he craved. "It's because I feel happy. I'm likely to quote again
+at any minute."
+
+"Well, quote the Scriptures then to Evangeline when she comes."
+
+"Hark!"
+
+She was coming now. They could hear the light, hurrying steps. Was
+Evangeline never tired? Did neither parades nor circuses--mysterious
+wanderings nor mysterious triumphs--affect her?
+
+"The show is about to begin," murmured Miss Theodosia.
+
+It began immediately. Evangeline came bursting in upon them, waving a
+blue ribbon. She was a fresh and radiant Evangeline.
+
+"Stefana says I can't stay only a minute. Stefana's kind o' mad, but she
+didn't dass to be, out loud, for fear we'd 'xcite Elly Precious. He's
+asleep. I was so proud of his arms an' legs when I undressed 'em!
+They're very high-percented arms 'n' legs. Mercy gracious, yes! Don't
+you see this ribbon's blue--blue--blue! That's because he's a Best Baby,
+an' the prize was five dollars, an' they gave him a dollar 'special,'
+too, that we're goin' to put in the bank--"
+
+Miss Theodosia held up her hand.
+
+"Begin at the beginning," she commanded. "Where have you been all this
+time? What on earth have you been doing?"
+
+"Showin' Elly Precious," flashed back Evangeline brightly. "You've heard
+o' Poultry Shows? Well, this wasn't. This was a Baby Show. We never
+noticed it was advertised in the p'rade at all--a man with a sandwich
+on. A lady told me. She said the circus folks were pretty bright,
+because all o' the world loved babies an' they knew 'twould make a
+beautiful side show. She said they knew it would draw, an' it did. It
+drew me an' Elly Precious! The circus folks offered prizes. They weighed
+an' measured 'em to see which was a Best Baby, an' Elly Precious was!
+You better be proud that you--that you measled a Best Baby!"
+
+Miss Theodosia's glance met the Man Person's. The show was turning out
+well.
+
+"I've got to go back, or Stefana--oh, mercy gracious me, it was worth
+folks bein' mad! There was a nurse there an' a lovely lady an' a doctor.
+They let me stay Elly Precious's nap out, because it isn't a sleep
+go-cart. He has to sit up straight in it. The lady said to lie him down
+there an' let him sleep. But we didn't expect he'd sleep so long--the
+lady went away, but I stayed. I wasn't goin' to wake a Best Baby up out
+o' a sound sleep! It made us a little late gettin' home."
+
+"Yes, go on," murmured the Man Person feelingly.
+
+"Why, that's as far as there is to go. Then we came home."
+
+"Why didn't you go back and tell Stefana or Miss Theodosia? Where was
+your Baby Show, anyway?"
+
+"In a tent. I happened to get a peek in an' saw folks with babies, an' I
+was a folks with one, so I just went in. That's all. I was goin' to tell
+Stefana, but he cried an' I couldn't leave him. He wouldn't have took a
+prize, cryin'. I had to keep dancin' to him--mercy gracious! But it was
+worth it. Then when he'd got all measured an' weighed,--it's pretty
+wearin' work,--he went to sleep. I told you that. I had to wait for him
+to wake up." For the first time Evangeline was on the defensive; she
+read the faint disapproval in Miss Theodosia's face.
+
+"Mercy gracious, I never s'posed you'd go an' worry! I thought--I
+thought you'd jus' be pur-roud." Actually, Evangeline was crying now.
+Miss Theodosia's disapproval vanished instantly. With a sweep of her
+arms, she gathered a forgiven Evangeline in. The Man Person stood
+outside the little zone of feminine emotion, but he had his own brand.
+
+"We _are_ pur-roud," Miss Theodosia crooned over the subdued little
+figure. "It's perfectly splendid about the blue ribbon and the prize!"
+
+"An' the special."
+
+"An' the special. Think of what his mother will say! But I knew he was
+the Best Baby all the time; it was written in between every little
+measle!" And saving laughter righted the situation; Evangeline bounded
+back to her usual spirits. "Now," Miss Theodosia said, "I'll get you
+some preserved ginger and shoo you home! You mustn't stay another
+minute, or Stefana will surely be over here with a policeman."
+
+"Stefana's proud, too--she needn't pretend! I saw her kissin' Elly
+Precious's knee. But she'll scold; she thinks it's her duty. Mercy
+gracious, when Aunt Sarah knits an' Mother's back, I hope Stefana'll
+grow down again."
+
+The Man Person poised his teacup above the saucer, arrested by this new
+puzzle.
+
+"Er--grow how?"
+
+"Down. She's so terrible grown-up now. It's been pretty wearin' on my
+nerves. We use' to play dolls together. We don't ever now. She's too
+starched up."
+
+"Poor Stefana with her starch!" murmured Miss Theodosia. The poor little
+martyr to starch! It was to be hoped, indeed, that when Aunt Sarah knit,
+Stefana could grow down again and play dolls.
+
+"Do you know her mother--Evangeline's?" Miss Theodosia asked, after the
+child had gone. "Is Evangeline like her;--is that where she gets her
+Evangelineness?"
+
+"No, she must get it from the father. The mother is exactly like
+Stefana, or may be I've got it the wrong end to. I never saw the father;
+he died a few weeks before the baby was born."
+
+"Well, the father must have been remarkable; somebody is responsible for
+Evangeline. I love that child next to--my baby. Supposing--I think of it
+sometimes--supposing I had staid in Rome or Paris or Farthest
+Anyplace--not come home at all, you know,--then I should have missed it
+all. I should never have known those children."
+
+"Nor me," he ventured. She did not appear to hear, but went on musingly:
+
+"Something sent me home--I needed those children."
+
+"And me!"
+
+"I was going on a fast train--a through express--straight to Lonesome
+Land!"
+
+She laughed softly as if she were alone. "If Evangeline hadn't Flagged
+my train--it was Evangeline! She switched me off on another track."
+Miss Theodosia's tender eyes lifted and met the Man Person's with a
+little start of recognition as if saying: "Why, are you here!" But she
+met those other eyes staunchly. "I'm glad I stopped off at this Flagg
+station. I like it here."
+
+For a little the big room, bright with lamplight, was so still that the
+clock ticked impertinently. Miss Theodosia's tea cooled in its cup, and
+John Bradford had long ago forgotten his. The big hands on the
+chair-arms gripped them unconsciously. Then, suddenly, the man got to
+his feet and walked to the far end of the room. On his return he stopped
+before Miss Theodosia, looking down.
+
+"I love you," John Bradford said. The impertinent clock kept on, but
+Miss Theodosia could not hear it now for the ticking of her heart. Was
+she a frightened girl that she could not lift her eyes?
+
+"I was on that express, too--bound for that same place. I thank the Lord
+I got off here. I shall always thank Him, whether you can love me or
+not. I shall always love you. If you thought, sometime--I can wait--"
+
+Miss Theodosia's eyes lifted. But she shook her head.
+
+"I'm afraid not--sometime."
+
+He still stood, looking down. Very gently he touched her hair; she could
+hear the long breath he drew.
+
+"I was afraid so. It was too much to ask. But I had to take my chance.
+Don't be distressed, dear. I am happy, loving you. You can't deny me
+that! I've loved you ever since I found you mending my shirt. I have had
+a beautiful time loving you, and it will keep right on. But I was crazy,
+wasn't I, to think--of course you 'couldn't sometime.'"
+
+"Because I love you now," she said steadily. "I have--I have just found
+it out!"
+
+The gently stroking hand ceased its work. John Bradford caught the sweet
+face between his great palms and turned it upward to his.
+
+"Dear!" he cried. He was a boy, she a girl. Love has no age. It swept
+over them, a young sweet tide. This man--this woman. There was no one
+else in the world then.
+
+"Dear!" she whispered, matching her love-word to his, "and I never knew
+till a minute ago!"
+
+"I always knew. The shirt had no part in it! I have loved you since the
+world began and the morning stars sang! You were made for me to love;
+all these years I have been waiting for you, dear."
+
+"All these years!" she repeated a little sadly--"that reminds us. But we
+are not old! I won't be--I won't have you be! What is time, anyway?"
+
+"Nothing!" He blew it away in a whiff of scorn. "What is anything but
+that I love you and you love me? We are just born now--this is our
+birthday! May I kiss you on your birthday, dear? Will you kiss me on
+mine?"
+
+The clock must have stopped in very astonishment at this scandal of
+grown love playing young love. At any rate, there was only the sound of
+the young love in the room. The room sang with the beautiful sound of
+it.
+
+It seemed a very long time afterward that John Bradford asked his
+man-question: "When?"
+
+"When your book is written--the love story. Not till then."
+
+"It's getting on beautifully!" he pleaded. "It never will be done.
+There's going to be no end to the chapters."
+
+"Mercy gracious! Where are you now?"
+
+"The heroine has just said yes. The hero has just kissed her--he is just
+going to kiss her ag--"
+
+"Mercy--mercy gracious!" Miss Theodosia's fair cheeks flooded pink. She
+held up a staying hand.
+
+"Wait--till I get--get used to being a heroine! Am I? Was _that_ the
+love story?"
+
+"That was the love story. I have been working on it every day. Some days
+I had set-backs--when the heroine flung things in my face about reformed
+doctors, and times like that."
+
+"She took them back again, those things. She was a kind sort of a
+heroine."
+
+"She was a dear. He wanted to kiss her when she took them back, those
+things. I had all _I_ could do to keep him from it. He was a tough sort
+of a hero to work with. I had my hands full."
+
+"Did you love--did the hero love the heroine when they sat drinking cups
+of tea?"
+
+"A little harder every cup."
+
+"When they nursed the measles?"
+
+"A little more every measle."
+
+"When they went to the circus?" She drew a long, happy breath. "I like
+to have been that heroine! Dear, is it right to be as happy as this? For
+old folks, I mean--near-olds? Oughtn't we to knock on wood? Oh, I've
+just thought of Evangeline. What will Evangeline say?"
+
+"Something Evangelical," he laughed. "I hope I'll be there."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Evangeline had excitements of her own. As though prizes for Best Babies
+were not enough, a new excitement began the very next day. Two
+excitements--one on the lovely heels of the other. Evangeline, gasping
+in the joyous throes of the first-comer, raced over to Miss Theodosia,
+as she had learned to race with troubles as well as joys. All the way
+she emitted sounds approximating steam-whistles. The very nature of the
+news she was carrying suggested the sounds she made carrying it.
+
+"The elegantest thing has happened--I mean's goin' to!" She could not
+wait to get quite there, but sent her news ahead of her through the
+transmitting medium of air. Miss Theodosia, on her porch, sat dreaming
+her love's young dream--young, not old; not old!
+
+"The elegant elegantest! He's goin' to be cured! He won't be deaf o'
+hearin' any more! I mean he thinks he won't--I mean _he_--"
+
+"Sit down on the step, dear. Count ten, then start again."
+
+"Onetwothreefour--oh, I can't wait to get to ten! If your little brother
+had always been deaf o' hearin' an' a doctor looked into him with a
+spy-glass an' said I think this boy can be cured, I'm goin' to take him
+to a hospital an' have him operated when his mother is willin' if she
+gets home--I mean if she gets home when she's willin'--oh, I mean--"
+
+"Yes, dear. Sit still. I understand, and I think she will be willing
+when she gets home, don't you? Oh, Evangeline, won't we all be happy to
+have Carruthers cured of his poor little deafness o' hearing! I know the
+doctor, and he knows ears! We'll trust him, Evangeline. He will do
+everything in the world there is to be done. And we'll stay at home and
+pray."
+
+"Pray!" cried Evangeline. Her little thin face lifted to the blue
+heavens. "I've woke up right slap in the middle o' nights an' prayed:
+'Oh, Lord, that made a little children an' forgot his ears, do somethin'
+now--don't you think you'd ought to, O Lord? It don't seem fair not to.
+He ain't ever heard Elly Precious crow, nor laugh--think o' that, dear
+Lord.'" The shrill voice dropped suddenly. "But He never." Evangeline
+sighed.
+
+"Till now, dear--we hope He will now. He and the doctor who knows ears.
+I thought you were so pleased and that you were--"
+
+"Oh, yes'm, oh, I am! It was just--I was thinkin' how lovely Elly
+Precious's laugh sounds an' Carruthers not ever hearin' it. So far, I
+mean." Evangeline caught her courage again in both hands. "But he'll
+laugh 'nough more times when he can hear--I mean when Carruthers can.
+Won't it be puffectly elegant!"
+
+It was later in the same day when the second excitement struck the
+little House of Flaggs. Evangeline raced again across the separating
+green grass to Miss Theodosia. This time she went at reduced speed
+because she had Elly Precious over her shoulder. Miss Theodosia saw them
+coming and smiled.
+
+"More news! I know it is puffectly elegant by Evangeline's face. Well,
+Evangeline?"
+
+"Mercy gracious! Take him before I spill him! I'm so happy I joggle.
+She's knittin' an' she's comin' home! I mean knittin' _enough_. She said
+'my--dear--children--I--expect--to--be--home--to-morrow
+--Aunt--Sarah--is--better--an'--I--can't
+wait--to--see--you--your--mother--' Mercy gracious, when Stefana got to
+your mother, seemed as if I'd burst! We hollered it to Carruthers, an'
+he burst! An' Elly Precious knows she's comin', I know he knows. Tickle
+him an' see how pleased he is!" Without comma or semicolon, to say
+nothing of periods, Evangeline panted on. Out of breath at last, her
+voice sat down an instant, as it were, to rest. It was up again in a
+moment.
+
+"To-morrow is most to-day! It'll be to-day to-morrow! Oh, mercy gracious
+me! We're goin' to sweep under everything an' behind--every las' thing,
+under 'n' behind. She won't find a grain o' dust. An' Stefana's makin'
+starch."
+
+"Mercy gracious!" softly ejaculated Miss Theodosia.
+
+"I mean to eat in the dessert--corn-starch. We've begun to skim Elly
+Precious's bottles. You can eat thin bottles, can't you, darlin' dear,
+when Mother's comin' home? Corn-starch has to have cream on it--when
+Mother's comin' home!" She laughed joyously. All past and creamless
+corn-starches were a joke. Laughing at them was easy at this happy
+moment.
+
+"Isn't it splendid Aunt Sarah went to knittin'? Mercy gracious, I hope
+she won't--won't drop a stitch for Mother to have to stay an' pick up!"
+Evangeline's laugh trilled out once more.
+
+"Do you suppose you'd dass to cut Elly Precious's hair, Miss Theodosia,
+while I danced like everything an' made faces? Dutchy, you know, in the
+back o' his neck--he's straggly now. I'd make awful faces--"
+
+"I wouldn't 'dass,' dear," smiled Miss Theodosia. "I never could cut
+fast enough and you never could dance hard enough--we'd hurt him."
+
+"Well, she'll look at the front o' him first--never mind. We're goin' to
+put on that darlin' little ni'gown you made, for a dress--belt it in,
+you know, with a ribbon off the handle o' the clo'es-basket; Stefana's
+ironed it out. An' we're goin' to pin on his blue ribbon prize."
+
+John Bradford came that evening to sit on the porch in the soft warmth
+that autumn had borrowed from summers-to-come, with promissory note to
+pay it back when lovers were through with it. Miss Theodosia met him
+with the news.
+
+"Mustn't it be beautiful to be welcomed home like that, dear? If you
+could have seen Evangeline's little shiny face! And the way Elly
+Precious laughed--when I tickled him! And, oh, John--Do you hear me
+call you John? I thought it would be hard!"
+
+"'And, oh, John--'" he prompted, putting it yet further off by a
+kiss-length.
+
+"Oh, John, I know about Carruthers. You're going to take him away to
+cure him."
+
+"To try to cure him," John Bradford said gravely.
+
+"You'll do it, dear--you and the Lord! Evangeline and I are trusting.
+Hark, she is coming! No one else sounds like that!"
+
+"No one else gallops--canters--breaks speed limits!" he laughed. "Now
+what? More news?"
+
+The same news over again, but Evangeline saw that which momentarily
+banished it from her mind. She saw John Bradford standing behind Miss
+Theodosia's chair; she saw him stoop over it.
+
+"Mercy gracious, he kissed her!" gasped Evangeline. Something told her
+to turn and gallop back, but she could not stop in time. She was already
+at the foot of the steps. Awful embarrassment seized her--seized
+Evangeline! In the faint, reflected lamplight from within the house she
+could see the two above her looking down. Mercy gracious!
+
+"Sit down, Evangeline."
+
+"I'm s-sittin'--I _think_ I'm sittin' down." Up-standings and
+down-sittings were confused in the general dizziness of things. Perhaps
+she was standing up.
+
+"You're not sick, are you, Evangeline? You're not saying anything."
+
+Then Evangeline said something.
+
+"I--I saw him--doin' it, I mean. Mercy gracious, _what'll I do_?" For
+some inherited delicacy of instinct made of her a dreadful intruder; she
+saw herself in the shameful act. Instinctively Evangeline knew she was
+on sacred ground.
+
+"I couldn't stop, I was goin' so fast. It's too late not to see him
+doin' it; I don't know what to do."
+
+With swift, light steps Miss Theodosia was down beside her. John
+Bradford with one step was there. Evangeline looked shamefacedly up into
+their two kind faces.
+
+"I'm sorry," she whispered. For answer, John Bradford took one of Miss
+Theodosia's hands and laid it on hers. He held out one of his own.
+
+"May I have this lady to be my wedded wife, Evangeline? Will you give
+her to me?" His big voice was very tender. Evangeline looked into his
+shining eyes. The mystery of love swept through her small, sweet soul.
+She shut her eyes as if from some light too bright for them. If she were
+alone, she would say her prayers. But the tender voice was going on.
+
+"May I have her, Evangeline--will you put her hand in mine? She is very
+dear, indeed, to me." She could feel Miss Theodosia's soft hand quiver
+against her own hard little palm. Miss Theodosia's eyes were tender,
+too.
+
+Then, suddenly, inspiration came to her. She laid the soft hand in the
+big hand and looked up, smiling into John Bradford's face.
+
+"I'm willin'," she said, "if you'll honor an' obey."
+
+It was as if a silken gown enfolded Evangeline's straight little
+shoulders and they heard her say: "I pronounce thee." The strange little
+ceremony left them hushed.
+
+No one spoke again for a little space. Somewhere sleepy birds twittered,
+disturbed by rustling leaves or stealthy marauders. Somewhere a clock
+intoned distantly. A train far away rushed through the night, perhaps to
+some Lonesome Land, but they were not on it. Then John Bradford broke
+the spell. He leaned down and kissed Evangeline.
+
+A little laugh bubbled up to him. "You must've made a mistake. I'm the
+wrong one--mercy gracious!"
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, MISS THEODOSIA'S HEARTSTRINGS ***
+
+This file should be named 8msth10.txt or 8msth10.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8msth11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8msth10a.txt
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext05 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext05
+
+Or /etext04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92,
+91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+ 1 1971 July
+ 10 1991 January
+ 100 1994 January
+ 1000 1997 August
+ 1500 1998 October
+ 2000 1999 December
+ 2500 2000 December
+ 3000 2001 November
+ 4000 2001 October/November
+ 6000 2002 December*
+ 9000 2003 November*
+10000 2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+ PROJECT GUTENBERG LITERARY ARCHIVE FOUNDATION
+ 809 North 1500 West
+ Salt Lake City, UT 84116
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
+ requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+ eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
+ if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+ binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+ including any form resulting from conversion by word
+ processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+ *EITHER*:
+
+ [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+ does *not* contain characters other than those
+ intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+ (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+ be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+ author, and additional characters may be used to
+ indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+ [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+ no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+ form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+ the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+ OR
+
+ [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+ no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+ eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+ or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+ "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+ gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+ already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
+ don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
+ payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+ the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+ legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+ periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to
+ let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+
diff --git a/old/8msth10.zip b/old/8msth10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac5d9bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/8msth10.zip
Binary files differ