Part 8 (1/2)
”_How lovely!_” she cried, springing into it. ”It just fits.” She shook her finger at old Jonathan. ”_You_ made this for me, you dear old thing!”
But Jonathan, wis.h.i.+ng mightily that he had, had to admit that he ”didn't know a blame thing 'bout it!”
”Then it was Webb. He wanted to surprise me, too, as well as Aunt Milly. Only--how did he know about my tree? Isn't it _nice_? It's as comfy as can be.”
When Nancy joyously declared that everybody and everything was lovely, somehow B'lindy and Jonathan and Aunt Milly felt so, too! B'lindy, at Nancy's bidding, sat down upon the gra.s.s close to the chair, and Jonathan, too rheumatic to follow her example, leaned against the tree trunk and stared at Nancy with adoring eyes.
”At first I was going to keep my nest a secret, just between Jonathan and me. But it'll be much nicer to have all of us know about it. We can have such nice times here. We can do so many things. B'lindy, can you knit?”
B'lindy said she could not, though she could crochet.
”Then I'm going to teach you and Aunt Milly both. You can knit socks for the children in Europe, though you must begin on washcloths.
Jonathan--I don't suppose there's any use trying to teach you--you must keep us supplied with flowers because Aunt Milly can't have enough--you see there are so many years she has to make up. And sometimes I'll read to you and sometimes I'll work. We'll come here every afternoon--shall we?”
B'lindy and Jonathan and Aunt Milly nodded their heads. B'lindy, watching Miss Milly's face, was beginning to think that there might be some sense in Nancy's prescription of happiness.
And if in her heart Nancy smothered any wistful longing as she glanced at the locked treasure-box, she forgot it when she, too, watched Aunt Milly.
It was Jonathan who suddenly noticed that the sun was creeping over toward the west and that he'd ”better be at the lettuce.”
”Goodness to gracious,” cried B'lindy, scrambling to her feet with a considerable creaking of joints. ”Anne Leavitt, my day's work ain't half done!”
On the way back through the orchard Miss Milly kept tight hold of Nancy's hand, giving it an occasional squeeze.
”I could die happy--now,” she whispered.
At the turn of the path beyond the raspberry patch the culprits were confronted by Miss Sabrina. It was a very angry Aunt Sabrina, whose one glance shadowed every bit of suns.h.i.+ne. Even Nancy, the ringleader of the plot, felt her knees give way in fright.
”What are you all about?” Miss Sabrina demanded in a voice cold with anger. ”Go about your work, Jonathan Allen. B'lindy, you wheel that ridiculous chair back to wherever you got it from! And you, Milly Leavitt, how _dare_ you meddle with the ways of G.o.d?”
Everyone seemed to obey Miss Sabrina without a word of protest.
Jonathan faded out of sight, B'lindy disappeared toward the kitchen with the chair and Nancy, followed by Miss Sabrina, carried the trembling Miss Milly back to her couch.
”Anne, you go out now!” Miss Sabrina jerked her head toward the door.
”I'll have a thing or two to say to Milly. She made her bed--it's the will of our Lord she should lie in it!”
Nancy hesitated one moment, but something in Aunt Milly's frightened glance seemed to say, ”Go away!” So she went out and closed the door upon the two sisters.
Alone in her own room a storm of anger shook her. ”I _hate_ her!” she cried out to the ugly walls. ”I _hate_ her! She's--just--_stone_!”
”I'm _glad_ I'm not a real Leavitt! We were _so_ happy!”
Then, really frightened, Nancy listened intently to catch some word from the other room.
CHAPTER VII
AUNT MILLY'S STORY