"What's best for her is the only question, of course," said Alma, helping Harry off the field.
In a few days Tilly received a long letter from her mother.
Mr. Ferguson was doing wonders for the Russians; the family were all very kind to her and "nice folks" and easily pleased.
("Of COURSE they're pleased with mother's cooking;what would they be made of if they weren't!" cried Tilly.)It was wonderful how much help Mrs. Higbee was about the house, and how happy it made her. Mrs. Ferguson had seemed real glad to see her, and that made her happy. And then, maybe it helped a little, her (Jane Louder's) telling Mrs. Ferguson ("accidental like") how Tilly treated her, never trying to boss her, and letting her travel alone. Perhaps, if Mrs. Ferguson kept on improving, they might let her come home next week.
And the letter ended:
"I will be so glad if they do, for I want to see you so bad, dear daughter, and I want to see the old home once more before we leave.
I guess the house you tell me about will be very nice and convenient.
I do thank you, dear daughter, for being so nice and considerate about the Russians. Give my love to Mrs. Carleton and all of them;and if little Bobby Green hasn't missed school since I left, give him a nickel, please; and please give that medical student on the fifth floor--I forget his name--the stockings I mended.
They are in the first drawer of the walnut bureau.
Good-by, my dear, good daughter.
"MOTHER, JANE M. LOUDER."
When Tilly read the letter she was surrounded by wall-paper and carpet samples. Her eyes grew moist before she laid it down;but she set her mouth more firmly.
"It is an awful short time, but I've just got to hurry and have it over before she comes," said she.
Next week Jane returned. She was on the train, waiting in her seat in the car, when Captain Ferguson handed her Tilly's last letter, which had lain in the post-office for three days.
It was very short:
"DEAR MOTHER: I shall be very glad indeed to see you.
I have a surprise which I hope will be pleasant for you;anyhow, I truly have meant it for your happiness.
Your affectionate daughter, M. E. LOUDER."
There must have been, despite her shrewd sense, an obtuse streak in Tilly, else she would never have written that letter.
Jane read it twice. The paper rattled in her hands.
"Tilly has moved while I was gone," she said; "I never shall live in the block again." She dropped her veil over her face.
She sat very quietly in her seat; but the conductor who came for her ticket watched her sharply, she seemed so dazed by his demand and was so long in finding the ticket.
The train rumbled and hissed through darkening cornfields, into scattered yellow lights of low houses, into angles of white light of street-arcs and shop-windows, into the red and blue lights dancing before the engines in the station.
"Mother!" cried Tilly's voice.
Jane let her and Harry Lossing take all her bundles and lift her out of the car. Whether she spoke a word she could not tell.
She did rouse a little at the vision of the Lossing carriage glittering at the street corner; but she had not the sense to thank Harry Lossing, who placed her in the carriage and lifted his hat in farewell.
"What's he doing all that for, Tilly?" cried she; "there ain't--there ain't nobody dead--Maria Carleton ------" She stared at Tilly wildly.
Tilly was oddly moved, though she tried to speak lightly.
"No, no, there ain't nothing wrong, at all.
It's because you've done so much for the Russians--and other folks! Now, ma, I'm going to be mysterious.
You must shut your eyes and shut your mouth until I tell you.
That's a dear ma."
It was vaguely comforting to have Tilly so affectionate.
"I'm a wicked, ungrateful woman to be so wretched,"thought Jane; "I'll never let Tilly know how I felt."In a surprisingly short time the carriage stopped.
"Now, ma," said Tilly.
A great blaze of light seemed all about Jane Louder.
There were the dear familiar windows of the Lossing block.
"Come up-stairs, ma," said Tilly.
She followed like one in a dream; and like one in a dream she was pushed into her own old parlor. The old parlor, but not quite the old parlor; hung with new wall-paper, shining with new paint, soft under her feet with a new carpet, it looked to Jane Louder like fairyland.
"Oh, Tilly," she gasped; "oh, Tilly, ain't you moved?""No, nor we ain't going to move, ma--that's the surprise!
I took the money I'd saved for moving, for the new carpet and new dishes; and the Lossings they papered and painted.
I was SO 'fraid we couldn't get done in time. Alma and all the boarders are coming in pretty soon to welcome you, and they've all chipped in for a little banquet at Mrs. Carleton's--why, mother, you're crying! Mother, you didn't really think I'd move when it made you feel so bad? I know I'm set and stubborn, and I didn't take it well when Mr. Lossing talked to me;but the more I thought it over, the more I seemed to myself like that hateful Minnie. Oh, mother, I ain't, am I? You shall do just exactly as you like all the days of your life!"
