“What is the matter, my dear?” inquired General Lyon, looking up from his paper, and noticing her disturbance.
She silently handed him the letter. He read it attentively, and then looking over his spectacles, said:
“Of course, then, we must not think of going. Scarlet fever! bless my life and soul! Let us stay where we are.”
“What is it, dear grandpa?” inquired Anna, looking up from her letter, while Dick laid down his paper to listen.
“Scarlet fever, my love, raging around Cedarwood, and slaying as many as King Herod himself. Of course, we can’t think of such a thing as going there. What, expose little Leonard to such an infection? Suppose he was to catch the fever? and—the very idea makes me shudder! We’ll stay home; we’ll stay home, my children!” said the old man, emphatically, settling himself once more to his newspaper.
And, indeed, he was not sorry to have a good excuse for relinquishing the journey to Washington, which at this inclement season of the year could have no attraction for him.
“But if the ladies wish to go to the city, we can take apartments at one of the hotels,” suggested Dick.
General Lyon looked uneasy. He did not wish to go to Washington on any terms in such bad weather. He would have gone to Cedarwood, only to keep his word with Drusilla; but missing that, he did not want to go to a hotel. And now he was afraid of being outvoted.
Anna, however, came to his relief.
“Take apartments? No, I thank you, Dick! We would all like to go to Cedarwood and see Drusilla’s ‘pretty little wildwood home’ so near the city but, if we cannot go there, we will not pen ourselves up in a crowded hotel or boarding-house.”