For Lydia was staring at Friend Morris with wide-open eyes. She could scarcely believe her ears. Friend Morris was still smiling, but tears were in her eyes. Then Lydia threw her arms about Mr. Blake’s neck. “A real father,” said Lydia. She turned to Mrs. Blake and held her as if she would never let her go. “And my own mother,” said Lydia, “my own mother.”
And there they were just so when Alexander’s knock came at the door.
“This is the nicest Christmas we’ve ever had, isn’t it, Lydia?” said Mr. Blake, his voice a trifle husky. Lydia smiled up into his face and softly patted the big hand laid upon her shoulder.
“And you’ll come back day after to-morrow, Lydia, to stay,” said Mrs. Blake, her arm still round the little girl, “and never go away again.”
Lydia nodded happily. She wasn’t able to talk about it yet. It seemed too good to be true. But she gave every one a parting hug all round. Then she whispered something in Mr. Blake’s ear.
“Please don’t forget the little cakes for Mary Ellen,” said little Friend Lydia.
[CHAPTER III—The New Home]
The next two days were the most exciting days Lydia had ever known. First of all she told the good news over and over to Miss Martin, and Mary Ellen, and Nurse Norrie, and Sammy, and all the rest of them. Miss Martin wasn’t a bit surprised. She almost acted as if she had known it all along.
“The saints bless us! It’s no trouble you’ll be making any one, the way you keep yourself clean,” was all Nurse Norrie said.
But Mary Ellen and Polly and Sammy were as excited and interested as Lydia could wish. Their tongues flew and their heads wagged up and down, and if Lydia couldn’t answer all the questions they asked her, they answered them themselves.