Susan needed no second invitation. She skipped ahead of Grandfather as they went through the low place made in the stone wall for Grandmother and Miss Tallman to step through easily. But when they reached the doorway, and Mrs. Vane stood before them, she shyly hid behind Grandfather’s great leather boots.
She listened to the grown-up talk with ears wide open for some mention of a person her own age, but it was not until Grandfather turned to go that she felt bold enough to slip her hand in his and give it a little squeeze as if to remind him why she had come.
“Oh, yes,” said Grandfather, understanding the squeeze perfectly and so proving himself to Susan the wisest man in the world. “This is my little granddaughter Susan, Mrs. Vane. She was very much interested in a rocking-horse that fell from one of your vans yesterday.”
“That was Phil’s rocking-horse,” said Mrs. Vane, smiling kindly down into Susan’s big black eyes, at this moment half friendly and half shy. “Philip is my little boy, and he will be so glad of a next-door neighbor. He has had no one to play with in the city, and he has been very ill, too, but I know he will enjoy himself here where he can run and shout as much as he likes, and I’m sure he will soon be well, now that he can play out in this good sun and air.”
Susan looked all about her in search of a little boy running and shouting as much as he liked, but Phil’s mother met her glance with a shake of the head.
“No, he isn’t here yet,” said she. “But I expect him any minute. His father is going to bring him up from the city this morning.”
Filled with the hope of seeing Phil arrive, Susan hurried through her dinner, but as she left the house and started toward the garden wall, the sight of Snuff limping dismally along on three legs drove all other thoughts from her mind.
“Grandfather, Grandfather, Snuffy’s hurt,” she called, and, putting her arms around her shaggy playfellow, she tried to help him up the back steps.
Snuff whimpered a little to gain sympathy, but he bore the pain without flinching when Grandfather gently pulled the cruel splinter from his foot, and washed and bound up the wound. Susan, remembering Snuff’s sweet tooth, begged a bowl of custard from Grandmother, and she was enjoying Snuff’s pleasure in the treat when a voice fell upon her ears.
“I’m here,” said the voice. “I’ve come. I’m Phil.”