"But, first of all, he wants very much to see the journal, and, of course, he must come here for that. He wanted to come and call on your mother some afternoon very soon. But I told him that was not possible, because your mother is away at business all day, and anyway, your mother wasn't a member of the club, and perhaps you wouldn't want to explain the whole thing to her just yet. So he said he would telephone to her to ask if he might stop in here with me some afternoon; and he called her up this morning about it. She said she would be very glad to have her girls meet the father of such a dear friend of theirs. Wasn't that lovely of her? If you all are agreeable, he's coming day after to-morrow, because he happens to have that afternoon free. He will meet the twins and myself at high school, walk down with us, and be initiated into the Antiquarian Club. He says that being shown that wonderful journal ought to constitute a sufficient initiation ceremony, and I agreed with him! Now, what do you say?"
Margaret agreed unhesitatingly, yet in her secret soul she was filled with just the same consternation that she always felt in being called upon to meet a stranger. But she tried to school herself to the ordeal by reminding herself how easy it had been to make the acquaintance of Corinne. The father of so lovely and wonderful a girl ought surely to be no more difficult to meet. Corinne had brought light and pleasure and manifold interest into her drab little existence. Might not the father do the same? Thus she argued with herself as the time slipped by, till at length the day itself dawned that was to bring a new factor into her life.
"Wheel my chair over to the bookcase, please, Sarah!" she commanded that afternoon, when she had been made ready to receive company in the parlor. "I'll read, I guess, till the girls come. Corinne may bring her father to-day, so could you have something kind of nice to eat, Sarah dear?" The woman gave her an odd look.
"Always that Corinne!" she grunted jealously. "Ye be fair daffy over that gur-rl, I do believe! An' now her father's comin' wid her! Why is she bringin' him? I ain't got refreshments fur the likes of them!" She muttered and growled herself out of the parlor, but her remarks gave Margaret no uneasiness. Too well she knew that, though Sarah might fuss and fume over some imagined imposition, she would ascend later with the daintiest of trays and serve the same maligned company with food fit for the gods! So Margaret contentedly settled herself to wait and pass the time by giving the curious old journal one further inspection.
Meanwhile, the day's session at high school came to an end, and, at the gate, Corinne and the twins found Mr. Cameron awaiting them. Whatever mental picture the twins may have had of Corinne's father, they found it very little like the reality. At once they were captivated by his twinkling blue eyes, his crisply curling, slightly gray hair, his friendly smile, and the thoroughly charming way he had of crinkling up his eyes when he laughed. They liked, too, his big, deep voice, his fine, tall, athletic-looking frame (and they wondered how he could be ill so often, when he looked so robust), and the jolly way he had of laughing at his own or other people's remarks. No longer did they wonder at his being such a chum of his daughter's, for before they had gone three blocks, he had become as interested in their accounts of basket-ball as though that game were the chief occupation of his existence.
But it was when he came to talking of their wonderful mystery that he showed to his best advantage, in their eyes. Alexander himself could not have exhibited a more thrilling interest in the whole affair than did Mr. Cameron. And as they proceeded down Varick Street, he branched off into talking of other historical associations connected with the neighborhood; told the most fascinating little anecdotes, pointed out hitherto unnoticed nooks and corners of odd shape and architecture, and explained the probable reasons for their existence. So enthralling was his conversation that they reached their own corner almost before they noticed it. Just as they turned down the street, however, they encountered Alexander. After the renewed introduction, Mr. Cameron voted that they all have a look at the former site of McCorkle's stable, and that Alexander should point out the exact location of the secret beam, long since removed to give place to iron subway-girders.
This naturally captured the heart of Alexander, and before they returned to the house, he was fairly ready to worship, in his boyish manner, this remarkable specimen of a grown man who seemed equally interested in baseball, Indian wigwam-building, hockey, skating, and boy affairs of all descriptions. But Alexander would sooner have been torn limb from limb than confess this worship to the girls!
At last they all approached the house, went up the stoop, and waited while Bess opened the door with her latch-key. The girls thought it rather strange that Margaret was not sitting in the window, waiting to wave to them as she always did, but they concluded that she must have had a fit of shyness, because of the new visitor, and had remained behind the curtains. In the hall they called gaily to her, and were again a little surprised to hear no response. Then they all entered the parlor.
To their utter astonishment they beheld Margaret, huddled in her chair by the bookcase, her eyes wide and frightened, her face bearing plainly the marks of recent tears.
"What is it, Honey?" cried Corinne, the first to spring forward. "Are you feeling ill?"