AT HOME
A few hours later a train puffed noisily into the familiar station at North Bend, and as it came to a stop three boys and three girls tumbled down the steps of a car and literally ran into the arms of their waiting families.
At least, the girls did; the boys considered themselves far too dignified. However, they soon forgot dignity and everything else in a noisy and joyful recital of all the good times they had had during their year of absence.
Of course there had been others from the Military Academy and Three Towers Hall on the train whose friends and relatives had also come to meet them so that it was a very much excited crowd that wound its way up the ordinarily quiet main street of North Bend.
Gradually the crowd separated into little groups, each going its separate way to its separate home, and so at last, after many promises between the boys and girls to “call each other up right after dinner,” the Bradley family found itself alone.
“Well,” said Mr. Bradley, beaming proudly upon his children, who seemed to him to have grown at least twice as large during their absence, and three times as handsome, “you thought you would come back to your poor old country relations, did you? Your mother and I,” he glanced fondly at his wife, “thought perhaps you had forgotten us by this time.”
“We weren’t very much worried, though,” said Mrs. Bradley, looking so lovely in her happiness that Billie had to snuggle close to her to make sure she was real. For Mrs. Bradley was really a very beautiful woman, as well as a very sweet one, and Billie was growing more like her every day.
“And there’s the darling old house,” breathed Billie happily, “looking just the same as it did when I left it. Mother dear, and, Dad——” here she reached a hand out to her father——“I think I’m the very happiest girl in all the world.”
For a day or two after that it seemed the best thing in the world just to be at home again. But the third day the girls began to feel a little bit restless. They were longing to be off to Lighthouse Island with Connie Danvers. But they had not heard from Connie yet, and until they did there was nothing to be done but get things in shape and wait.
“Suppose she should change her mind,” remarked Laura dolefully on the noon of the third day.
“Change her mind!” burst out Vi. She turned enquiringly to Billie. “Do you think Connie would do anything like that?” she demanded.
“Certainly not,” was Billie’s quick reply. “Connie isn’t that kind of a girl. Besides all the arrangements have been made. It is more than likely she has been so busy with a number of details that she has simply forgotten to write or telegraph.”
“Well, anyway, this waiting is getting on my nerves,” declared Laura.
“Let’s do something to make the time pass more quickly,” suggested Billie. “What do you say to going down town for a bit of shopping?”
“That suits me,” answered Vi. “And we might have some ice-cream sodas while we are down there.”
This suited all of them, and soon they were on the way to the shops where they spent the best part of the afternoon.
Then one day, over a week later, when they had begun to think that Connie had forgotten about them, a telegram came from her, saying that she was starting for North Bend the day after the next and she would be in on the six o’clock train. Would somebody please be there to meet her? Her mother and father had gone on ahead to Lighthouse Island to get everything ready for the girls when they arrived.
Would they be there to meet her! Billie was so excited that she couldn’t eat her supper, and as soon as she could get away from the table she rushed over to Laura’s home to tell her the joyful news. From there the pair called up Vi and invited her to come and celebrate.
And celebrate they did until it got so late that Mrs. Jordon had gently but firmly to put them out, appointing Teddy to escort the girls home.
“I don’t want your mothers to think I’ve kidnapped you,” she called after them as she and Laura, the latter pouting a little, stood in the doorway to wave good-bye to them.
“Just the same, I think you might have let them stay a little longer,” protested Laura as they turned to go inside. “It’s only ten o’clock, and we had so much to talk about.”
“I know,” said Mrs. Jordon, putting an arm lightly about her young daughter’s shoulders. “I was the same way at your age, dear. Mother had to send away my friends and put me to bed regularly every week or so. Now it’s my turn, that’s all.”
Meanwhile Teddy and Billie had dropped Vi at her house and had turned down the broad, elm-shaded street on which stood the Bradley home.
For some reason or other they did not talk very much. They did not seem to find anything to say. Billie had never been alone like this with Teddy before, and she was wondering why it made her tongue-tied.
“I say, Billie,” began Teddy, clearing his throat and looking down at her sideways—for all the world, as Billie thought, as if she were a mouse trap and might go off any minute—“is it really settled that you are going to start day after to-morrow?”
“Yes. And isn’t it wonderful?” cried Billie, finding her voice as the blissful prospect opened up before her again. “I’ve never stayed at the seashore more than a day or two, Teddy, in my life, and now just think of spending the whole summer there. I can’t believe yet that it isn’t a dream.”
“You want to be careful,” said Teddy, staring straight before him, “if you go in bathing at all. There are awfully strong currents around there, you know.”
“Oh, of course I know all about that,” returned Billie, with the air of one who could not possibly be taught anything. “Connie says her Uncle Tom knows of a darling little inlet where the water’s so calm it’s almost like a swimming pool. Of course we’ll do most of our swimming there. Oh, Teddy, you ought to see my new bathing suit!” She was rattling on rapturously when Teddy interrupted with a queer sort of question.
“Who is this Uncle Tom?” he asked, still staring straight ahead.
“Why, he’s Connie’s uncle, of course! The keeper of the light on Lighthouse Island,” answered Billie, as surprised as if he had asked her who Abraham Lincoln was. “Connie says he’s a darling——”
“Is he married?”
“Why no. That is, I don’t think so,” answered Billie, knitting her brows in an effort to think whether Connie had ever said anything on this point. She had never even thought to ask if “Uncle Tom” was married. “Why, no, of course he can’t be,” she answered herself and Teddy at the same time. “If he was married he wouldn’t be living in that old lighthouse all alone. And Connie said he did live there all alone. I remember that.”
She nodded her head with satisfaction, but, strangely enough, Teddy did not seem to be satisfied at all. He just stalked along beside her in a sort of gloomy silence while she glanced up at him now and then with a mischievous hint of a laugh dancing about her pretty mouth.
“Teddy, where are you going?” she asked a minute later, as they reached the sidewalk that led to her house and instead of stopping Teddy stalked straight on. “I don’t live down at the corner you know.”
Teddy turned about with a sort of sheepish grin and rejoined her.
“I was just thinking,” he said as they turned up the walk together.
“No wonder you went past,” said Billie mischievously. Then as they paused at the foot of the steps she looked up at him with an imp of laughter showing all the dimples about her mouth. “What were you thinking so hard about, Teddy?” she dared him.
“I was thinking,” said Teddy, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at Billie, “that I wouldn’t mind going down to Lighthouse Island myself!”
Then he fled, leaving Billie to get into the house as best she could. But Billie did not mind. She was chuckling to herself and thinking how funny and foolish and—yes—awfully nice Teddy could be—sometimes.