A little act; but it cleared the mists from Steenie’s eyes and the anxiety from her heart, for already “Twenty-seven” was saying in tones of cheery friendliness, “All right, little missy! Whar yo’ an’ yo’ pa wanter go at?”
Mr. Calthorp’s explanations were repeated with such clearness that, in another moment, a cab had been summoned, the travellers assisted into it, and the station-man dismissed, with a smile shining on his black face and a new quarter in his palm.
“I’m not a bit afraid now, Papa darling. I was just at first, ’cause I didn’t understand the place. But don’t you be worried now, we’re all right; and won’t my grandmother be glad to see you!”
The returning invalid had his own opinion on that matter; but he did not dampen Steenie’s courage by expressing it.
She went on, heedless of his silence. “My! what folks and folks! More than ever came to our circus—even that last one! And what makes ’em almost run? They ’bout hit each other, don’t they? What big wagons! Oh, that’s a pretty horse! What big ones at that wagon full of ’normousest barrels! Why are they so many, many folks, Papa dear? Ah, we’re stopping!”
More confusion—more changes; but always somebody at hand to guide them, for Mr. Calthorp had recovered his usual calm, alert manner, and could direct, if he could not see his path. A second brief railway trip, through which Steenie slept comfortably against her father’s arm, and then—they were standing before the great door of a big white house, whence a brass lion’s-head knocker grinned maliciously upon them. Though unguided by his eyes, Mr. Calthorp’s hand rose naturally till it seized a curious bar-like tongue which hung from the beast’s mouth, and struck it sharply against the polished plate.
“Whack! Rat-a-tat!”
Which brought the sound of approaching feet; and the door opened noiselessly, to show within the aperture a very stiff old man.
“Is Madam Calthorp at home?”
“Yes. But—my-soul-I-declare! Is it you, Mr. Daniel?”