“Oh, you wait! My, but you can go down all right, can’t you!” admired Blue, to his brother’s delight.
“There! now we can talk!” The boy settled himself in a big rocker, after seeing Doodles comfortable in its mate opposite.
“Tell me quick!” begged the little lad, eager for every scrap of home news.
“Well, you know Mr. Selden that Caruso belonged to? Mrs. Fleming told mother all about him and Eudora—”
“Oh! was that the one Miss Shook said?”
“I guess so. Now you keep still and let me talk!
“You see, it was this way, she and Mr. Selden were dead in love with each other, and wouldn’t either of ’em show it a mite. Miss Fleming thought he didn’t care anything about her when he went off without saying a word; and all the while he didn’t dare let on how he felt, because she is so rich and he is poor and has got his way to make. So that’s what was the matter with her—Mrs. Fleming said she just went all to pieces. Then when I carried the bird, and wrote him what I did, it made him think perhaps she did like him. And he wrote to her, and she wrote to him, and they kept on writing, and they both found out how it was, and he proposed, and now they’re engaged and going to be married!”
“O—h!” beamed Doodles.
“I do’ know when, but he’s comin’ home next spring. Miss Fleming don’t care a rap if he is poor, and any of ’em don’t; they say he’ll make piles o’ money pretty soon, because he plays so beautifully. And they are all so glad she’s got well, and it’s come out so fine, it seems as if they couldn’t do enough for us ’specially for you.”
“What have I done?”