[CHAPTER XXII]
AT STREATHAM
ALL too swiftly the early autumn days slipped away for the holiday-keepers at Teymouth. The evenings were growing much shorter now, and a golden tinge was here and there noticeable on the woods which made a background for the little sea-side village; blackberries, too, were ripening fast, greatly to the satisfaction of the Wyndham boys, who rambled far and wide in search of them.
It had been arranged for the Wyndhams to return to London on the twelfth of September, and Mr. Wyndham had looked forward with the keenest pleasure to the company of Dr. Reed at Teymouth for a week or so before that date, but a few days before the one on which the doctor and his wife had planned to arrive Ann received a letter from home with the information that Mr. Luscombe, who had been away for his holiday, had returned far from well and was now laid up with pneumonia, so that it would be quite impossible for her father to leave his practice at present; therefore, he and her mother had decided to defer their visit to Devonshire till the following month. Ann carried the news at once to her friends at the farm, who received it with many expressions of regret.
"Father says Mr. Luscombe is not seriously ill," she explained, "I am very glad of that; but it will be several weeks before he will be well enough to work again. I expect father is very disappointed that he cannot get away now, and mother, too. Oh, dear, I suppose I shall have to travel all the way home by myself, and it is such a long journey! Perhaps, though, Violet could meet me in London, if I remain with Granny till nearly the beginning of the term."
"Could you not return with us to London?" suggested Mr. Wyndham. "You might spend a few days at Streatham, and then you and Violet could go back to Buford together."
"Oh, that would be a capital plan!" cried Violet, "oh, do come, Ann!"
"I should much like to," Ann replied, her face brightening; "but would it be convenient?" she asked, as she fancied she saw a dubious expression on Mrs. Wyndham's face.
"Oh, yes!" Mrs. Wyndham assured her hastily; "you would have to share Madge's room, but you would not mind that, perhaps?" she said inquiringly.
"Certainly not, if Madge does not—" Ann was commencing when Madge sprang impetuously to her side, and interrupted her by flinging her arms around her neck and giving her a friendly hug, exclaiming as she did so:—