Part 48 (1/2)

Down the hill they ran merrily, and scrambled into saddles for a wild gallop home. Such news was too good to keep, and before the evening was half spent, arrangements were completed for the coming event, and a letter posted to Blue Bonnet.

And in Boston a young girl awaited the first of April with joy that knew no bounds.

”Only two days more until Uncle Cliff comes, now, Joy,” she said, tearing a leaf off from the calendar. ”Seems to me I just can't wait. I never was so anxious to see him in my life.”

Joy smiled sympathetically.

”It will be lovely,” she said. ”And you have planned so many things to do, Blue Bonnet. I've been wondering if your uncle will wish to keep all these engagements.”

Blue Bonnet turned toward Joy quickly.

”You don't know Uncle Cliff,” she said gaily. ”He'll have the time of his life. He wrote me that three days were at my disposal; to fill them any way I chose. Want to hear the program?”

”Love to,” Joy answered.

”Well, Uncle Cliff gets here the morning of the first; that's Friday.”

She went to her desk and taking out an engagement book, began turning the leaves hastily.

”Arrives at eight-fifteen. That ought to get him up here about nine, at the very latest.”

”Oh, let the poor man get his breakfast first.”

”He'll have that on the train, thank you. Then let me see; yes--here: Nine o'clock, visit with Uncle Cliff. Ten, shopping. Eleven o'clock, hospital. I have a little plan about that. One, luncheon. Two o'clock, matinee--or something; haven't planned that yet. Five, meet Aunt Lucinda and the girls from Woodford. Eight, theatre--”

”Mercy, Blue Bonnet, what a mad scramble! And after a five days' journey across the continent I should think your uncle would be dead!”

”I hadn't thought of that,” Blue Bonnet said, contritely. ”Perhaps we _had_ better cut out the matinee. I shouldn't wonder if we had. It would be hard on Grandmother, too. But you have to do a lot, Joy! Three days slip away before you know it. Now that brings us up to Sat.u.r.day, doesn't it? Sat.u.r.day; let me see. Here it is! Sat.u.r.day, A. M.: Nine o'clock, shopping. Have a little plan about that, too, if Uncle Cliff's willing; know he will be. One, lunch. Two, motor ride. Six o'clock, dinner for the Lambs and the We Are Sevens. You're in on that, too, Joy; you and Mrs. White. Eight, theatre. Sunday. Eleven o'clock, church at Trinity; hope the Bishop preaches. Two o'clock, visit with relatives. Seven, tea--at relatives, probably. Monday morning--Woodford. Sounds fascinating, doesn't it?”

”Alluring, Blue Bonnet. I hope you'll have a happy time.”

”I shall, I'm sure, Joy. I've got to run up-stairs now a minute to talk things over with Carita. Carita goes with me to Woodford for the rest of the vacation.”

”Begins to look like a holiday,” Blue Bonnet thought as she went through the halls and noticed the trunks at each door. ”Wonder if Carita is packing.”

But Carita was not packing. She was sitting listlessly in a chair by the window, looking a bit forlorn.

”What's the matter, Carita?” Blue Bonnet inquired.

”Nothing.”

”Nothing? You look as if you had the blues.”

”No--only--”

”Only what?”

Tears welled in Carita's eyes.

”Only what, dear?” Blue Bonnet's arms were round her.

”I reckon it's just a touch of homesickness. It's seeing the girls packing to go home. I want so to see mother--and Baby Joe. They says he's so darling now. Oh, my arms just ache to hold him sometimes, Blue Bonnet--and--and--Texas is so far away, isn't it?”