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CHAPTER XVII A PICTURE AND A MESSAGE

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three weeks had wrought encouraging changes among the small patients on overlook mountain, changes visible not alone to professional eyes. little duke was growing so plump that “grocer jack,” who brought up daily supplies from the village, and who was as lank as the proverbial beanpole, declared that he was coming up to board with benedicta. clementina cunio was able to walk a full half-mile to one of the neighboring farmhouses without exhaustion, where the good wife always welcomed her with eager arms, never omitting the important word that she believed she grew strong every minute. timmy dennis and jeffy orton, who down in fair harbor had been too weak more than mildly to admire the multi-colored marbles that mrs. gresham had given them, were now really shooting them in the very latest fashion on the gravel walk and running in at nap-time or between games to tell of some passer-by who had stopped to compliment their playing, as well as to speak of their wonderful gain in appearance. as for esther and dolly merrifield, their cheeks were now as pink as apple-blossoms, and the numerous visitors from[130] cabins and bungalows thereabouts rejoiced talkatively over the rosy changes in the hitherto little pale faces. so, as appetites and happiness increased, those in charge said to one another what a fortunate thing it was that the children had come up to overlook.

it was towards the end of the third week that clementina came in from the veranda to tell of a traveling photographer who was outside and who wished to photograph them.

“an’ he’ll take us all at the same time,” went on the excited child, “an’ he won’t charge but one dollar an’ he’ll make ’em beautiful an’ we c’n send ’em home to our folks he says an’ we’ll make a lovely picture an’ it’ll be grand an’ won’t you miss dudley?”

clementina stopped for lack of breath, whereupon polly said she would see, and outdoors they went, the little girl holding fast to the hand that clasped hers in so reassuring a way.

polly and the traveling photographer talked together for quite a little while—or rather the photographer talked and polly bowed her head or shook it or said simply, “yes,” and “i think so,” and such inconsequential things. then, the main question seemingly having been decided, they walked about in front of the chalet, stopping at every few feet to look towards the veranda and making various motions with their hands.

“what are they doing?” fretted clementina.[131] “don’t you s’pose she’s going to have us tooken?”

“oh, yes!” answered dolly merrifield, as the question was addressed to no one in particular. “i think they are finding the right place to take it in.”

“oh!” cried clementina rapturously, “i bet that’s it.”

and all the little faces on the veranda reflected clementina’s.

“we’re going to be took playin’ marbles!” announced timmy dennis.

“yes, playin’ marbles!” echoed jeffy.

“i’m going to get my doll, so ’s she can be tooken too!” exclaimed chessera.

“maybe she won’t let you,” suggested clementina.

“maybe she will!” retorted chessera, who never held any doubts concerning polly.

meantime, several matters having been satisfactorily settled, the two that had been considering them came up on the veranda. then polly went into the house, and returned with lilith and the white nurse. shortly afterwards benedicta appeared and ran across the lawn to the study, coming back with a boy in her arms and dr. abbe just behind with another.

it was an excited little company that was grouped on the grass against a background of shrubbery. wheel-chairs and small chairs were carried out and moved from place to place, in[132] order to obtain the best effect. at last everybody was ready, with his very best smile or his most happy expression, according to whether he was grown up or only five or ten or anywhere between. the little folks were told to keep perfectly still, the photographer waited the fraction of a minute for the sun to hide his face under the edge of a white cloud, and then—click!—the picture was taken.

what a babel of tongues was set loose as soon as the word of release was given! the children all talked at once, and the grown-ups smiled to one another and hoped that “it” was good.

after a long week the finished photographs came, and the children promptly went into a flutter of ecstasy and did not come out until the next morning. then before they were dressed they had to take two rapt glances at “the picture,” the first to make sure that it had not grown wings overnight, and then to see if it were really as beautiful as it had been when they went to bed.

it was a fine photograph; even the grown-ups admitted that. everybody was in it, from benedicta clapperton down to baby zulette. the little folks had obeyed to the letter all the warnings to be motionless, and the result was a perfect likeness of every small face. as for the others, they agreed that all excepting his own were as good as such pictures could well be; so everybody was satisfied—including the photographer himself.

[133]

“if i only had three,” wished dolly merrifield to polly, “then i could send one to sardis and one to auntie and keep one myself.”

polly said she thought it could be arranged with only one, for it could be sent first to aunt sophie and then she could send it to sardis, and after he had looked at it long enough he could return it to her.

dolly was delighted with this plan, and before many days it was put into action. aunt sophie wrote a very happy letter, telling how glad she was to see the photograph and that she had already sent it to sardis. then dolly tried to calculate how many days must go by before it would return from her brother. she could not tell, but finally decided that she should have to wait at least a week.

“i know he’ll like it,” she told polly, “only i do want to hear what he says—he never says things like other folks.”

the letter from sardis came in exactly five days, and dolly’s eyes grew big and bright as it was put into her small hand. as she read, the smiles grew, until there was a joyous little laugh. she looked up to meet polly’s happy eyes.

“oh, miss dudley, what do you think! he’s coming up here to see us! and he says he’ll stay all night if you’ll lend him a bit of turf, about six feet square, to sleep on. isn’t that just like sardis! and he says the picture is beautiful, and mine[134] looks as if i were having a mighty good time, and that you—i told him which you were—that you look as if you wouldn’t whip me more than twice a day! whip me twice a day!” the red lips curled themselves whimsically. “that’s just like sardis! you want him to come, don’t you, miss dudley?” questioned dolly anxiously.

“indeed, i do,” polly answered. “you can tell him that i shall be delighted to see him up here on top of the world, and that he may have six feet of turf or six feet of springs to sleep on, whichever he chooses, and that if he will send us word what train he will take we shall be very glad to meet him at overlook.”

and that is the message which sardis merrifield read, two nights afterward, in the murky post-office of raineville, when he stopped for his mail after a thirty-mile drive in the rain, to see a sick parishioner.

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