And so had passed the summer days, and now September was at hand, and in a very short time Eleanor would start for Forest Lodge—the school in which she had accepted a position for six months—not longer. Forbes’ influence had prevailed.
Early one morning the ’phone rang. Eleanor was wanted.
“I know what it is,” cried Jean, who happened to be near it and turned to receive the message: “It’s Mr. Forbes, and he wants Eleanor to play Pilgrim’s Progress with him again, I’ll bet a cookie.” The funny one-sided conversation began only to be interrupted by Jean, who exclaimed:
“What makes you think you’re talking to Eleanor? Are our voices so alike as all that? Hold the wire while I call her, and don’t waste all those nice speeches on me,” and with a chuckle Jean turned to call Eleanor.
That afternoon Forbes called for Eleanor, and just as they were about to start upon their pilgrimage Jean came tearing out upon the piazza with two gorgeously colored laundry bags, rose-flowered and highly decorative, which she plumped down upon the piazza.
“Jean!” expostulated Mrs. Carruth. “What in this world?”
“Well, I don’t see any sense in playing a game unless you have the ‘impurtenances,’ as Mammy calls them: it must seem sort of half played. So I’ve filled these bags full of newspapers, and if you’ll each sling one over your shoulders you’ll be sure enough ‘pilgrims,’ and goodness knows you climb up that mountain often enough to give ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ to the life!”
Then Jean fled, and so did Eleanor and Forbes.
Panting and hot, in the course of time they reached the summit of the mountain and the plateau, every square foot of which should have been known to them by this time. Seating themselves upon the log, which had done duty many times before, Forbes at once began to unroll a great blueprint which he held at arm’s length, and said:
“Now, I can show you the tangible evidence of my dreams. You see the plan is this:”