They ate the reception refreshments with such zeal that grandmother said, "Well there! I was wondering what we would do with all the things that were left, but I needn't have worried."
"No, the mothers are the only ones that need worry,—over the after results," said Mrs. Ray burn, laughing.
They started home in the afternoon, all standing on the surrey steps and seats to wave a farewell to dear Grandmother Van Stark as long as they could see her.
Of course they played games going home, and this time Ethelwyn had really made up one.
"I'll say the first and last letter of something in the surrey or that we can see, and then whoever guesses it can give two letters." So she gave "m——r," and Beth guessed mother at once; then Beth gave "h——s," and Bobby disgraced himself by guessing horse, but he was warm, because it really was harness, and Nan guessed it. Then she gave "f——s," and that took them a long time, because it didn't sound at all like flowers, but Bobby finally guessed it, and then he gave them "g——s," which mother guessed as girls.
"You tell us a story, motherdy," said Ethelwyn, cuddling up close. "I just love to hear you talk, I haven't heard you for so long."
"Were you homesick for me?"
"Not ezactly," said Ethelwyn, "but I had a lonesome spot for you all whenever I thought about it."
Ethelwyn always pronounced the word "exactly" wrong. Her mother liked to hear her say it, however, and one or two more; "for they will grow out of baby-hood all too fast," she said.
"I went over to see Miss Helen Gray yesterday," said Mrs. Rayburn, "and she told me some funny stories about Polly, her parrot. You know she is really a very remarkable bird. Ever since Miss Helen has lived alone, she and Polly have been great friends, and it seems as though Polly really understands things she says to her. She bought her in New Orleans, where she boarded next door to the Cathedral. So Polly soon learned to intone the service, not the words, but exactly the intonation.