rob watched the fields which bordered fayre, and the splendid, bare-boughed elms fly past the window against which she pressed her face, eager for the first glimpse of the station. it seemed to her that she had been gone for months; she wondered at finding them the same fields and the same elms which she had seen on her departure—another rob was returning to them, who, she vaguely felt, must be welcomed by changes in the surroundings of her childhood corresponding to those within herself.
there was no one to meet her at the station; she had been too uncertain of her return to announce it, and, leaving her single, but insistent, piece of baggage at the station, she hurried to the little grey house.
she opened the door and came in quietly, yet not so quietly but that prue heard her step, and came tumbling out of the sitting-room, crying:[241] "rob, rob! rob's come!" in an ecstasy of joyous excitement.
wythie nearly tripped up her mother in her haste to follow prue, but rob brushed past them both, throwing her arms around her darling mardy, and hugging her close, crying with joy at getting back to her, and for grief of the loneliness of finding her in her widow's black.
"rob, my dear, precious girl, i'm so thankful you're here i can't care how your mission ended," cried mrs. grey, holding rob off at arm's length to see her better, and folding her closer than before. "i have seen you crushed by trolleys, lost, weary, frightened, till i could not forgive myself for letting you go."
"dear mardy-goosie, you see i'm all right, and you'd better care how my mission ended, for it's worth caring about," cried rob. "you see i didn't come home on my shield, so maybe you can guess who's the victor."
"rob, have you good news?" cried wythie.
"i have a lovely old gentleman coming up here to see the invention, and he is positively going to make an offer for it, but he couldn't tell how much it would be. the only thing he could say was that it would be considerably more than mr. marston's offer," said rob, busying herself[242] with her coat-buttons, and trying to speak demurely.
"you splendid, splendid rob!" cried prue, throwing herself on her sister's neck in a rapture.
"that's because i succeeded; if i'd failed, and sticking to my guns had lost us the first offer, without getting a second one, you'd hardly have forgiven me, prudy. i begin to see why this is called an unjust world," said rob, wisely. "but i'm ravenous, dear folkses—can't you feed a poor wanderer, while she tells her story?"
"rob, dear, we are devouring you so hard with our eyes and ears and hearts we forget how tired you must be!" exclaimed wythie, self-reproachfully. "we made some fresh gingerbread, in case of company from the metropolis, and we've some freshest fresh eggs from mr. flinders to-day—you shall not starve long, dearie." wythie felt as though her sister were undefinably changed by this short absence, and was half afraid that rob was growing up.
"and little polly flinders?" asked rob. "how's the poor mite?"
"wonderfully well; she begged to be allowed to stay up to see if you wouldn't come to-night," smiled mrs. grey.
"let me go get her; it won't hurt her to bring[243] her down, wrapped up in her gown. she'll like to hear me tell my story, even if she doesn't understand much about it." and without waiting for an objection rob disappeared, and came back quickly, bearing a sleepy but happy polly done up in a scarlet dressing-gown, who was fondling her face as she carried her, and whom she deposited in a dining-room chair, tucking her feet up well in the wrapper before she took the place wythie and prue had hastily prepared for her at the old table.
"how thankful i am this mahogany didn't go!" sighed rob. "we're going to be prosperous greys henceforth, though i don't know yet the extent of our riches. now, sit ye down, my bonny, bonny lassies, mardy, wythie, and prue, and i will sing the adventures of roberta the bold in the great city of gotham. no, i don't want any more bread than this, mardy, but if i did i'd get it—please sit down and listen."
prue pulled up a chair, and leaned on her elbows well over toward the middle of the table, drawing a long breath of contented yet impatient interest. wythie placed her chair close to rob's side, and laid her arm over her sister's shoulders, while the mother grey took her favorite low rocker, and folded her hands, look[244]ing with eyes warm with love and moist with tender, proud tears at her husband's "son rob," as she told the story of her defence of his invention.
"and that's all," ended rob, at last, having related every incident of her visit, from her bewilderment as she left the station, and the big policeman's kindness, to mr. baldwin's fatherly parting from her in the grand central. "i did hold out against you all not to take the offer, but nothing else is due to me. it is all that blessed mr. baldwin, and i only hope i can some day make him understand how grateful i am—and to his sweet wife and hester, too; they were like—well, you can't say like one's own kindred, for they were more thoughtful and loving to me than some of our kindred are."
"but my brave rob did it all, none the less," said her mother. "i can't thank her for her loyal courage, but i hope her patergrey can do it for me." and she kissed rob with a long, clinging kiss that the girl, happy through her tears, felt was not from her mother only.
polly fell asleep again as rob talked, and when the triumphant traveller's repast was over, and prue had volunteered to clear away the reminders, as if, for the first time in her life, she welcomed the chance to serve rob, the little grey[245] house was closed for the night, and lights appeared in its low upper windows, for mrs. grey insisted that tired rob must be got to bed.
it took a long time getting there, however; prue flitted in and out of her sisters' room, not to be deprived of any part of the steady flow of talk going on there, for the mere telling of facts is never all of any story worth telling. long after prue had reluctantly subsided, the "ss-ss-s" of whispering drifted out in the darkness from wythie and rob's bed, but finally they whispered themselves to sleep, and silence rested over the little grey house which its brave daughter had saved.
breakfast was scarcely over, when polly, wiping dishes, announced: "here's father!" and the greys saw mr. flinders approaching, his right hand bearing a yellow envelope, held with the handle of a large basket tightly grasped, and his face bearing a most unwonted smile. "i come to see roberta—mr. abbit, down to the depot, said you'd got back—and my wife she said she thought you'd like some 'f her jelly," said mr. flinders. "she said she'd like to know if polly wasn't about ready to come home."
polly looked doubtful. "i'd like to come, if rob wasn't here," she said.
[246]
"i'll go away, pollykins, go away again, if you say so," smiled rob. "i think she's well now—don't you, mardy? perhaps you ought to go see your mother, dear. she's lonely with no little polly flinders among her cinders."
"polly is quite welcome, mr. flinders," said mrs. grey, "but if you need her i think she is well enough to be dismissed from our little grey hospital."
farmer flinders shuffled his feet uneasily. "she said i'd ought to tell you, but i d' know's i know how," he began, embarrassed. "we're a good deal obliged to you for all you've done for maimie, an' i can see my way to carryin' on this place on equal shares next summer, countin' from now. i guess half 'll be 'bout what i'll take in the future, 'stead of two-thirds."
"that's very good of you, mr. flinders!" cried mrs. grey, appreciating the sacrifice this offer cost. "come next week, and we'll talk about accepting your proposition. we hope the greys may be much better off by that time. roberta has been to new york in reference to her father's patent, and we believe it is going to prove very valuable; we are waiting for news of its purchase now." poor mrs. grey was not guileless in thus taking farmer flinders into her confidence.[247] she knew that he would set afloat rumors of sylvester grey's posthumous success, and she was impatient for tardy justice to be done her husband.
"i want to know!" exclaimed mr. flinders now, opening his eyes to their widest. "and that's what roberta went away for—we was wonderin'. very valuable, is it? i want to know! and roberta went to attend to it! she's young for such business, seems's if! still, she's al'ays been smart, roberta has. well, i'm sure i'm glad; you do deserve it. sho! i've got a telegraph for you in my hand this minute! here 'tis; i forgot it. i guess i'll be goin'. i'm comin' for maimie on saturday, so you be ready, maimie. i sh'd think you'd want to see your folks. hope the telegraph is good news; you do deserve it." and mr. flinders tore himself away—to spread the tidings of the greys' approaching prosperity, mrs. grey felt contentedly sure.
wythie had torn open the telegram. "will be in fayre on ten-ten from new york on thursday," she read. "it's signed william armstrong; is that any of the gentlemen you saw, rob?"
"it's one of them," cried rob, eagerly seizing[248] the telegram from wythie's hand. "it's the old gentleman, and he's coming to-morrow! oh, mardy and other girls, don't you hope it will be all right?"
"what will be all right? hallo, rob! we heard you were back, and we came to see the city polish you had acquired," cried bruce. battalion b had come in the front way unheard.
"oh, hallo, nice big boys," cried rob, turning to meet them with outstretched hands and her most april face. "i didn't get much polish in two days, i fear me, but i think and hope i got what i went for."
"of course you did! we knew what would happen!" cried basil. "we're going down to get your bag—our bag! we're anxious about it, so we're going to bring it up. abbott told us you left it with him. and we're going to take you with us to identify us, so get your hat and come along, and on the way you can tell us all that you and gotham did to each other."
"i suppose i might go to market with these foolish but spotless giraffes, mardy," said rob.
"come with the giraffes, you little brown deer," remarked bruce, in an undertone.
"and order something special for luncheon [249]to-morrow when mr. armstrong is here," continued rob, ignoring bruce.
"run along, robin, and get ready while wythie and i make out our list for you," said mrs. grey, with a brighter smile than her face had worn since the little grey house had lost its master.
mr. armstrong had come and gone. roberta had taken him into the wainscoted room, and while her mother and wythie listened in wondering admiration, showed their guest the working of the models, explaining each part, and making clear, through her memory of her dear patergrey's words, that which none other of the family had understood.
a strange half-consciousness took possession of rob as she talked—she imagined that it was not she herself, not young rob grey speaking, but that she was the mouth-piece for the wistful eyes so often raised to hers in that old room, and that sylvester grey spoke through her. as in the office in new york, her self-diffidence dropped from her, and she performed her part, absorbed in doing well her father's commission. mr. armstrong, as before, had listened silently, but now he was gone, and the greys sat around[250] the old mahogany dining-table, gazing, awestruck and motionless at the slip of paper lying on it. it was mr. armstrong's check for fifty thousand dollars.
the bricquette machine was sold, the arrangements made for packing and shipping the models to its owner, and the result of sylvester grey's "dreaming"—securing peace and plenty to his family—lay, radiating hope and joy to his wife and daughters, on the old table where once the baby sylvester had sat by his father's side.
"i never expected to see so much money in all my life," said prue, speaking first, and sighing like one awakening from a dream.
"oh, if only your dear, hard-working, misunderstood father could have known!" cried mrs. grey, dropping her head beside the check, her whole frame shaken by sobs.
wythie arose and laid her own head softly on the heaving shoulder. "mardy, mardy darling, we will be quite sure that he does know; we will believe he helped rob stand firm against us all, and win us this great good—we say we believe in the communion of saints, and we will be quite, quite sure that dear papa has this joy, with all the rest," she whispered, her sweet face kindled into rapture, though her tears fell fast.
[251]
rob leaned across and took her mother's hand. "this has done something wonderful for me, mardy," she said, slowly. "i don't know that i can explain, but it seems to me that all his dear, pathetic, dreaming life patergrey was but partly alive, and that now he is living, truly living, and his life is complete. i feel as though he had come back to us."
the door opened, and aunt azraella entered, stopping short, as she saw the group around the table. "for pity's sake, mary," she cried, "has something else bad happened to you? i've only just got back, and i have been frantic to hear how roberta came out. i suppose you've lost that offer, and see now how right i was. well, i warned you."
"rob has saved us, azraella," said mrs. grey, raising her head quickly—aunt azraella had the gift of drying tears. "look at this."
aunt azraella took the magic slip of paper her sister-in-law handed her. she nearly dropped it, and fell into a chair herself as she scanned it, catching her breath in the magnitude of her surprise.
"fifty thousand dollars! a check for fifty thousand! mary, tell me this instant what this means," she gasped.
[252]
"it means that our brave, wise roberta was right; that the first offer was a dishonest one, and that through the old college mate of sylvester's, the lawyer, to whom he was to have written himself for advice, rob was brought to honest men, who have given us the real value of the patent," said mrs. grey. "it means that we are rich, azraella, and that in the midst of our sorrow we have been freed from the corroding anxiety of poverty. and we owe it to sylvester's years of visionary, impractical dreaming, which you so denounced, and to brave rob's good judgment and firm purpose."
for once mrs. winslow was silenced. at last she rallied. "it's more than wonderful, mary," she said, "but who in the world could have foreseen it? of course, i'm perfectly delighted. roberta, i am truly surprised at you; i didn't think you had it in you. but i congratulate you, child, and i'm proud of you. there's nothing in all this world much better to have than a keen business sense, and judgment to know when you're right and to stick to it. i am proud of you. what are you going to do with the money, mary? it's most important to invest it properly."
"it will go to mr. baldwin, and he will invest[253] it for us—he wrote me, offering to do this, yesterday," mrs. grey began, but rob interrupted her with a glad cry.
"oh, aunt azraella, what do you think we are going to do? right away—a check for it has already gone to the bank, for we received two thousand more than this big check."
"put up a fine stone to your father's memory," replied mrs. winslow, with a characteristic guess.
"no, no—oh, no," cried wythie, hastily, while rob said: "don't you see what it is? it is already practically done. we have paid the mortgage on the little grey house, and the dearest little old home in the world is all our own, free and all our own, once more. we shall get the papers in the morning."
