Katherine's Sheaves Part 34

"It is perfectly lovely of you, and I can never tell you how much it means to me!" Sadie replied, with a long breath of relief, while she wiped the hot tears from her cheeks.

"Well, you need not be 'homesick' any longer," was the cheery a.s.surance, "for mamma will make you feel that you have your own place in our dear home nest on the rocks by the sea; and papa is the jolliest of men. No one need be 'lonesome' when he is around, and we shall have other friends with us some of the time. Listen while I read you what mamma says: 'Have your friend come, by all means, if she thinks she can be happy with us. You can explain what our plans are, and if they prove attractive we will make her one with us.'"

"That will be perfectly delightful! It is awfully sweet of you both," Sadie exclaimed, with sparkling eyes, her spirits quickly rebounding, as the burden of a few hours previous began to roll from her heart. "Oh! Katherine, you never can know how happy you have made me, and I am going to write to my guardian this very minute."

She turned back to her desk, and presently Katherine heard her tearing paper into tiny bits, after which she wrote two letters and then went immediately out to post them.

There were no more tears or doleful looks during the remainder of the week. A day or two later there came an approving letter and a generous check from Mr. Farnsworth, and Sadie was once more her serene and gracious self and looking forward eagerly to the day of their flitting to the sea.

Katherine, on the other hand, was feeling an unaccountable reluctance to leaving, even with the expectation of returning in September, and in spite of her longing for both father and mother.

It was very strange, she told herself, but she certainly was not elated over the prospect of a long vacation.

Prof. Seabrook was going to Europe for a complete change of scene and rest. Mrs. Seabrook, Dorothy and nurse were booked for a quiet spot in the White Mountains, where, it was hoped, pure air and country life and diet would strengthen the frail girl for what was in store for her, and where Dr. Stanley would join them, for the month of August, if he could arrange to leave his patients.

Miss Reynolds was to go to her home in Auburn for July, but, to Katherine's delight, had accepted an invitation from Mrs. Minturn to be her guest during the first two weeks of August.

And so, when the morning of their departure came, adieus and good wishes were exchanged with their many school friends, and the two girls started upon their journey to the coast of the "good old Bay State" and lovely Manchester, that beautiful town so boldly perched on rugged crags and nestling so restfully 'mid sylvan shadows.

There was a secret sense of disappointment in Katherine's heart because she had not seen Dr. Stanley during these last days. He had been unusually busy for a month, and she had not met him since the afternoon, of their brief interview under the great beech tree; but when she went to say farewell to Mrs. Seabrook she left a friendly message and good-by for him.

Dorothy wept when taking leave of her, and Mrs. Seabrook clung fondly to her.

"I am very loath to let you go," she said, "for there have been many peaceful hours in this room when you have been with us, and I shall count the weeks until we are all back again. Somehow, I am dreading my summer," she concluded, with a weary sigh.

It was six o'clock in the evening when the young travelers reached Boston, where they were met by Mr. Minturn, an unusually prepossessing gentleman, who evidently was very fond of "my girlie," as he called Katherine when he gathered her into his strong arms. and held close for a moment.

Then he greeted Sadie with a breezy cordiality which, for once, disabused her of the notion that Northerners were "stiff and cold"

and Southern hospitality at a premium.

They had just time to get their trunks rechecked and catch a suburban train, and about an hour later, seated behind a pair of spirited bays, they were rolling over a smooth country road and ere long drew up beneath the porte cochere of a fine residence built on a rocky bluff and overlooking a broad expanse of ocean.

"So this is a 'cottage by the sea,' a 'nest on the rocks,'" Miss Minot mentally observed to herself as her glance roamed over the roomy mansion, while she was mounting the steps leading to the wide veranda, where Mrs. Minturn and another lady, both in dinner costumes, were waiting to welcome them. Katherine flew to her mother's arms, while Mr. Minturn presented Sadie to Mrs. Evarts; then, presently, Mrs. Minturn came to her, greeting her so graciously and lovingly that her heart was won at once, and she felt that she had been admitted within a charmed circle and a strangely peaceful atmosphere.

"Now, my dears, I am not going to make you dress to-night," Mrs.

Minturn observed, when the greetings were over. "Ellen"--glancing at a maid in spotless cap and ap.r.o.n--"will take you upstairs and help you get rid of some of the dust of travel, then you can come directly down, for we were only awaiting your arrival before having dinner served."

The maid took possession of their hand bags and led the way indoors, up a broad stairway to two adjoining rooms, opening out upon a balcony which commanded, a fine view of both land and sea.

After submitting to a vigorous brushing, bathing hands and faces and pinning into place some truant locks, they went below to a tempting repast, to which the two hungry travelers did ample justice.

The weeks that followed Sadie Minot never forgot, for they marked the beginning of a new era in her life. She seemed to be living in a different world. Every day was begun with a reading from the Bible and the Christian Science text-book; this was followed by the singing of a lovely hymn, then came a minute or two of silent communion, after which the Lord's Prayer was repeated in unison.

Ofttimes Mrs. Minturn and her friend would remain to discuss or go over again some pa.s.sage that had awakened a new train of thought, and frequently Sadie found herself lingering also, an interested listener.

After a week of rest they began to make trips to various points of interest, sometimes stopping two or three days in a place, then returning to Manchester for a little season of quiet, when they would flit away again in another direction.

It was ideal. There was never any friction or jar in the home or on the wing; an atmosphere of peace and love brooded everywhere, while, at the same time, a spirit of good-fellowship and jollity pervaded the entire household, particularly when Mr. Minturn made one of their number.

Katherine, who was quietly observant of her friend, was glad to see that there was no return of the absentminded moods or depression that had previously overshadowed her; but that she seemed care-free and happy, giving herself up heartily to the enjoyment of her vacation.

Only now and then, when a letter addressed in a bold, free hand came to her, did she seem to cast a backward glance or recall anything to mar her pleasure.

They had little visits at Newport and Narragansett Pier, a trip to the Thousand Isles, interspersed with outings at the Ess.e.x County Club at home; golf, tennis and drives, and, now and then, a run to Boston for sightseeing or shopping.

One morning--the very last of July--Katherine received a letter bearing a New Hampshire postmark.

"I wonder if it is from Mrs. Seabrook! I have been wishing we might hear from Dorothy," she observed, as she hastily cut the end of the envelope and drew forth a closely written sheet. "Yes, it is," she supplemented, glancing at the name appended, and then became absorbed in its contents, her face growing grave and wistful as she read.

"Mamma," she remarked, when she had finished and was refolding the missive, "Mrs. Seabrook writes that Dorothy is not as well. They have had to send for Dr. Stanley, and he thinks that the mountain air does not agree with her; that she would be better near the sea. She has written to ask if we know of a cottage here that she could rent for the remainder of the season."

"Why, yes; there is the Hunt cottage. Mrs. Hunt told me yesterday that they are all going on a trip through the Canadas; but she was in a quandary about her help. She does not like to let them go, neither does she feel quite like leaving them to run the house by themselves. Perhaps she would be glad to rent it," Mrs. Minturn returned.

'That would be delightful, for then we could have Mrs. Seabrook for a neighbor, and--oh! mamma--if we only could do something for that dear child," said Katherine, yearningly.

"We could not interfere there, dear," her mother gravely replied.

"We could do nothing, with Prof. Seabrook so opposed to the treatment of Christian Science. But I will go and talk with Mrs.

Hunt and see what can be done for your friends."

The result of her call was a cordial a.s.sent on the part of the Hunts to rent the cottage, if the Seabrooks, after learning the terms, desired to have it.

Katherine wrote by return mail, stating the case to Mrs. Seabrook, and the second day afterward, while she and Sadie were busy with some fancy work on the veranda, Dr. Stanley suddenly appeared, mounting the steps.

Katherine sprang forward to greet him, her face glowing with pleasure.

"This is a delightful surprise, Dr. Stanley," she said, giving him a cordial hand. "Come and have a chair. If you have walked from the station you will be glad to get out of the sun, and I am sure you need no introduction to Miss Minot."

The physician saluted Sadie with his customary courtesy, then seated himself in the comfortable rocker tendered him, and gazed, with an appreciative eye, off upon the blue expanse before him, at the same time taking in deep breaths of the cool, delicious salt air.

"This is glorious!" he exclaimed. "Young ladies, I do not wonder at the roses in your cheeks, in view of these invigorating breezes wafted straight from the domain of old Neptune."

Sadie, however, did marvel as she observed the unusual color in the face of her friend. "The invigorating breezes of 'Old 'Neptune' didn't have anything to do with that," she said to herself.

"We have found it very warm and close up in the mountains," the gentleman resumed, "and I now regret that I did not send my sister to the sea at the beginning of the summer."

Katherine inquired for Mrs. Seabrook, who had scarcely referred to herself in her letter, and expressed her regret that Dorrie had seemed to lose ground.

"Yes, she has been very poorly, and her mother is simply worn out with anxiety and watching," said Phillip Stanley, with a clouded brow. "You perceive I lost no time, after the receipt of your letter, in coming to conclude the arrangements with Mrs. Hunt."

"You will find her cottage very comfortable and homelike, although it is not very large," Katherine informed him. "We think it is just the place for you, because of the well-trained help, which will greatly relieve dear Mrs. Seabrook. That is the house--the second one above us on the opposite side of the street."

"The location is certainly fine. It is high, has a good view of the ocean and s.p.a.cious grounds. I shall feel that we are very fortunate to secure it. I wonder if I shall find Mrs. Hunt at home?" said the gentleman, and apparently eager to conclude the bargain.

"I think so, and, if agreeable to you, Dr. Stanley, I will go over with and introduce you to her," returned his young hostess.

"That is very good of you, Miss Minturn," he eagerly responded, with a look that caused the white lids to droop quickly over the brown eyes. "I shall certainly avail myself of your kind offer."

"I am sorry that mamma is not at home," Katherine remarked, as she arose to go in and make ready for the proposed call. "She will be disappointed to have missed you. She was obliged to go to Boston this morning, with Miss Reynolds, who arrived last night, and will not be back until late this evening. Sadie, will you come with us to Mrs. Hunt's?" she concluded, turning to her friend.

"No, I reckon not," the girl lazily replied. "I am too comfortable to move, unless the occasion is imperative."