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Page 45
Betty carefully drew the basket in, fearful lest the rope might slip,
for "the surprise" was heavy. As she landed it safely and turned the
basket over on the floor, out rolled four fat little fox-terrier
puppies.
"What darlings!" cried Lloyd, springing off her cot to catch up one of
the plump little things as it sprawled toward her on its awkward paws.
"They are so much alike we'll never be able to tell them apart unless we
tie different coloured ribbons on them. I'm going to name mine Bob after
Robby, 'cause he gave them to us."
"Let's name them all that," said Betty. "We'll be taking them away to
different places soon, so it will not make any difference." The
suggestion was received with applause, and Eugenia sent Eliot to her
trunk for a piece of pale green ribbon. "I'm going to have my Bob's
necktie match my room," she said.
"We'll all do that, too," said Joyce, and in a few minutes the four Bobs
were frisking clumsily over the floor, in their respective bows of pink,
yellow, blue, and green. They afforded the girls entertainment all that
afternoon, and in the evening there was another surprise.
In the starlight, when it was dark enough for the blinds and shutters to
be all thrown open in their rooms, they heard a carriage coming down the
avenue. It, too, stopped under the window, and in a moment they
recognised the twang of Malcolm's banjo and Miss Allison's guitar. "It's
a serenade," called Eugenia. "What a good alto voice Keith has!"
It was an old college tune that rose on the air. Miss Allison had
parodied the words of the peanut song:
Any fellow that has any _mea_-sles
And giveth his neighbour none,
He sha'n't have any of _my_ measles
When his mea-_sles_ are gone.
Oh, that will be joyful, joyful,
Oh, that will be joyful, when his mea-sles are gone.
Then they sang, "My love is like the red, red rose" and "Pop goes the
weasel, the queen's got the measles." They were all silly little
ditties, but the personal allusions made them interesting to the girls,
and there was a storm of applause from the upper windows after each one.
Mrs. Sherman brought out cake and lemonade to the serenaders, and the
girls hung out of the windows as far as they dared, to see what was
going on below.
"If we only hadn't gone to that horrid old gypsy camp," lamented the
Little Colonel, "we might be down there now, having a share of the good
time. What _are_ you all laughing at?" she called. "It is simply
maddening to be up here and listen to you and not know."
Malcolm leaned out of the carriage to sing, teasingly, "Thou art so near
and yet so far," adding, "Never mind, Lloyd, we'll come again to-morrow,
and bring a travelling show with us. Look out for us early in the
morning, before it begins to get hot."
"What do you suppose those boys are going to do?" asked Eugenia, as
Lloyd drew in her head, and the carriage rolled off, the serenaders
still singing.
"I haven't the faintest idea. There's nothing to do but wait and see."
Although the question was asked several times that evening before
bedtime, and the girls amused themselves for a quarter of an hour
guessing what kind of a travelling show was to be brought by for their
entertainment, not one of them thought of it again next morning. The
doctor had decided that their eyes were well enough to bear the light,
and, at his visit, threw open several of the blinds. Mrs. Sherman drove
down to the station, and Mom Beck went to the servants' cottage. Only
Eliot was left to keep an eye on the invalids, and she had been invited
to bring her sewing and listen to a story that Betty was reading aloud.
They had grown very fond of patient old Eliot, for she had been the
kindest and best of nurses in their illness. The girls were all lounging
around the room in wrappers, each with her own particular Bob in her
lap.
The reading had gone on for about half an hour, when Eliot's sewing
suddenly slid from her lap to the floor, and a queer rattle in her
throat made every one look up in alarm. At first they thought that she
must be having some kind of a fit. Her hands were thrown up, her mouth
dropped open, there was a look of wild terror in her staring eyes, and
her face was deathly pale. It was terrifying to see a grown woman seem
so frightened. She was pointing to the door, and, as their eyes
followed her shaking finger, they forgot her fear in their own fright.
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