The Angel of the Gila Part 60

CHAPTER XXIV

AFTERMATH

It was a substantial stone house, built against the mountainside, overlooking a picturesque canyon. A woman sat on the broad veranda.

Occasionally, she turned her head, and looked down the mountain road, listening as though expecting some one. Then she walked down the path, and stood watching. A little five-year-old girl joined her, flitting about like a sprite.

"Will father come soon, mother?" she asked.

"I hope so, Edith. He said he would come to-day." There was a far away look in the mother's eyes.

"Why _doesn't_ father come?" the child continued.

"Oh, he has been a long way, and has traveled many days, dear.

Something may have happened to detain him."

"What could have happened, mother?" the little one asked.

"Oh, business, or the rails might have spread, or there might have been a washout, or a landslide."

The mother again looked down the road. Then she walked slowly back to the veranda and took up her sewing. The child leaned against her knee.

"Mother, when you were a little girl, did you have any little girls to play with?"

"No. I had just my dear grandfather."

"Then you know how lonely I am, mother. It's pretty hard to be a little girl and all alone."

"Do you think you are alone, little daughter, when you have father, and aunt Carla, and mother?"

"But you are big, mother, don't you see? When a little girl hasn't any other little boys and girls to play with, the world's a pretty lonesome place."

The mother sighed.

The child rested her chin in her dainty hands, and looked up through her long lashes into her mother's eyes.

"I have been thinking, mother."

The child was given to confidences, especially with her mother.

"What did you think, Edith?" The mother smiled encouragingly.

"I thought I'd pray for a brother."

A tear trembled on the mother's cheek.

"A little brother?" The mother looked far away.

"Oh, a _b-i-g_ brother!" said the child, stretching her arms by way of ill.u.s.tration.

"What would you say, sweetheart, if a big brother should come to-day?"

The little one clapped her hands.

"A really, _truly_, big brother?" she asked, dancing about in glee.

"A really, truly, big brother,--Wathemah. You have never seen him, and he has never seen you, since you were a baby. But he is coming home soon, you know."

"Will he play with me?" she asked. "You and Aunt Carla just 'nopolize father and the big ladies and gentlemen when they come. But _sometimes_ father plays with me, doesn't he, mother?"

"Yes, sometimes. He loves his little daughter."

"I don't know." She shook her head doubtfully.

"I heard father say he loved you bestest of ev'rybody in a world."

She threw up her arms and gave a little jump.

"Oh, I wish I had some one to play with!"

"Let's go watch for father again," said the mother, rising.

This time they were not disappointed. They heard the sound of wheels; then they saw the father. The little daughter ran like the wind down the road. The father stopped the horses, gave the reins to the driver, and stepped to the ground. In an instant the little sprite was in his arms, hugging him about the neck, while her ripples of laughter filled the air. The wife approached, and was folded in the man's embrace.

"Father," said the child, "I am to have a big brother, mother says."

"You are?" Great astonishment.

The parents smiled.

"An', father,"--here she coquetted with him--"you and mother are not to 'nopolize him when he comes. He's going to play with me, isn't he, mother?"

"I think so." A grave smile.

The child was given to saying her father "un'erstood."

"When did you hear from Wathemah, Esther?" the father asked.

"About ten days ago. I'll read you his letter. I shall not be surprised to see him any day, now."

"Wathemah is my big brother, Father. Mother said so. She says he's always been my big brother, only _I_ didn't re'lize it, you know."

The parents looked amused.

"Yes, Edith, he is your brother, and a dear brother, too," said the father.

When they were seated on the veranda, and the child was perched on her father's knee, Esther brought Wathemah's last letter, and read it aloud to her husband.