Big Brother Part 5

Unconsciously he held himself so rigid in his expectancy that he fairly ached. Ten minutes dragged by, with only the crackle of the fire on the hearth to disturb the silence of the great room.

Then light feet pattered down the stairs and ran across the broad hall. The _portiere_ was pushed aside and a bright little face looked in. In another instant Robin's arms were around his neck, and he was crying over and over in an ecstasy of delight, "Oh, it's Big Brother!

It's Big Brother!"

Not far away down the avenue a great church organ was rolling out its accompaniment to a Thanksgiving anthem. Steven could not hear the words the choir chanted, but the deep music of the organ seemed to him to be but the echo of what was throbbing in his own heart.

There was no lack of childish voices and merry laughter in the great house that afternoon. A spirit of thanksgiving was in the very atmosphere. No one could see the overflowing happiness of the children without sharing it in some degree.

More than once during dinner Mrs. Estel looked across the table at her husband and smiled as she had not in months.

Along in the afternoon the winter sunshine tempted the children out of doors, and they commenced to build a snow man. They tugged away at the huge image, with red cheeks and sparkling eyes, so full of out-breaking fun that the pa.s.sers-by stopped to smile at the sight.

Mrs. Estel stood at the library window watching them. Once, when Robin's fat little legs stumbled and sent him rolling over in the snow, she could not help laughing at the comical sight.

It was a low, gentle laugh, but Mr. Estel heard, and, laying aside his newspaper, joined her at the window. He had almost despaired of ever seeing a return to the old sunny charm of face and manner.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

They stood there together in silence a few moments, watching the two romping boys, who played on, unconscious of an audience.

"What a rare, unselfish disposition that little 'Big Brother' has!"

Mr. Estel said presently. "It shows itself even in their play." Then he added warmly, turning to his wife, "Dora, it would be downright cruel to send him away from that little chap."

He paused a moment. "We used to find our greatest pleasure in making Dorothy happy. We lavished everything on her. Now we can never do anything more for her."

There was another long pause, while he turned his head away and looked out of the window.

"Think what a lifelong happiness it is in our power to give those children! Dora, can't we make room for both of them for her sake?"

Mrs. Estel hesitated, then laid both her hands in his, bravely smiling back her tears. "Yes, I'll try," she said, "for little Dorothy's sake."

That night, as Steven undressed Robin and tucked him up snugly in the little white bed, he felt that nothing could add to his great happiness. He sat beside him humming an old tune their mother had often sung to them, in the New Jersey home so far away.

The blue eyes closed, but still he kept on humming softly to himself, "Oh, happy day! happy day!"

Presently Mrs. Estel came in and drew a low rocking-chair up to the fire. Steven slipped from his place by Robin's pillow and sat down on the rug beside her.

Sitting there in the fire-light, she told him all about her visit to the Piersons. They had found Robin so unmanageable and so different from what they expected that they were glad to get rid of him. Mr.

Estel had arranged matters satisfactorily with the Society, and they had brought Robin home several days ago.

"I had a long talk with Mr. Dearborn the other day," she continued.

"He said his wife's health is failing, and their son is trying to persuade them to break up housekeeping and live with them. If she is no better in the spring, they will probably do so."

"Would they want me to go?" asked Steven anxiously.

"It may be so; I cannot tell."

Steven looked up timidly. "I've been wanting all day to say thank you, the way I feel it; but somehow, the right words won't come. I can't tell you how it is, but it seems 'most like sending Robin back home for you and Mr. Estel to have him. Somehow, your ways and everything seem so much like mamma's and papa's, and when I think about him having such a lovely home, oh, it just seems like this is a Thanksgiving Day that will last _always_!"

She drew his head against her knee and stroked it tenderly. "Then how would you like to live here yourself, dear?" she asked. "Mr. Estel thinks that we need two boys."

"Oh, does he really want me, too? It's too good to be true!" Steven was kneeling beside her now, his eyes shining like stars.

"Yes, we both want you," answered Mrs. Estel. "You shall be our own little sons."

Steven crept nearer. "Papa and mamma will be so glad," he said in a tremulous whisper. Then a sudden thought illuminated his earnest face.

"O Mrs. Estel! Don't you suppose they have found little Dorothy in that other country by this time, and are taking care of her there, just like you are taking care of us here?"

She put her arm around him, and drew him nearer, saying: "My dear little comfort, it may be so. If I could believe that, I could never feel so unhappy again."

Robin and "ze black dancin' bear" were not the only ones tucked tenderly away to sleep that night.

The sleigh bells jingled along the avenue. Again the great church organ rolled out a mighty flood of melody, that ebbed and flowed on the frosty night air.

And Big Brother, with his head pillowed once more beside Robin's, lay with his eyes wide open, too happy to sleep--lay and dreamed of the time when he should be a man, and could gather into the great house he meant to own all the little homeless ones in the wide world; all the sorry little waifs that strayed through the streets of great cities, that crowded in miserable tenements, that lodged in asylums and poorhouses.

Into his child's heart he gathered them all, with a sweet unselfishness that would have gladly shared with every one of them his new-found home and happiness.