“Everybody! I guess you’re wanting,” reproved the elder son of the minister. For, during the time of building, short though it was, the orphan girl had become wholly identified with the Littlejohns’ household and felt as full a right to the cabin as if it had been her own especial property.
Now, suddenly, as she stood in the doorway there came into her mind the prophecy of old Katasha; and she looked afar, as if she saw visions and heard voices denied to the others. So rapt did her gaze become that little Four stole his pudgy hand into hers and inquired, beneath his breath:
“What is it, Kitty? What do you see?”
“I see crowds and crowds of people. Of all sorts, all forms, all colors, all races. Crowding, crowding, and yet not crushing. Only coming, more—and more—and more. I see strange buildings. Bigger than any pictures in that book you showed me yesterday. They keep rising and spreading out on every side. I see ships on the lake; curious ones, with tall masts, a hundred times taller than that in which my Gaspar sailed away. They are so laden with people and stuff that I—I—it seems to choke me!”
She did not notice that the Doctor had drawn near and was listening intently; and even when his hand touched her shoulder she found it difficult to comprehend what he was saying.
“Wake up, lassie! Why, what is this? My practical new daughter growing a star-gazer, like the foolish old man? That won’t do for our little housekeeper.”
“Won’t it, sir? I guess I’ve been dreaming. But I know I shall see all that some day, right here in this spot. This is the lake where the big ships sail, and this the ground where the houses stand.”
One was at hand with his ever-ready reproof.