Virginia of V. M. Ranch

by Grace May North

Half an hour later. It was dad at the long distance telephone. He said he had expected to run down to Vine Haven to wish me a Merry Christmas, but business prevented, so he had called up instead to give me a Christmas surprise, and girls, what do you think it was? I’m so happy and excited I can hardly keep my pen from dancing. Dad says I may come next summer, as he will have to go west on a business trip and can escort me as far as Arizona.

“Whoopla!” Margaret shouted as she tossed a pillow into the air. “Oh, I’m so glad, so glad!”

“I am glad, too,” Virginia said, and then the two girls snuggled close and planned the many delightful things that they would do when Babs came. When at last, the chiming of the clock announced that it was noon, they sprang up and a small folded paper fell to the floor. Virginia picked it up. “Here is a postscript to your letter, Megsy, that you didn’t read,” she said, “What can be in it?”

“Oh, I do hope Babs isn’t saying that she can’t come after all,” Margaret declared as she opened the note. She glanced at its message, then read aloud:

“Dearest Megsy: I am writing this on a separate piece of paper, for you may not have told Virginia about my lost brother. It is all right, dear, if you have, for I know that she is like a sister to you and will be to me when we become acquainted.

“Having my dear brother Peyton away this Christmas has made me even more lonely for you, for you two are the ones in all the world for whom I most care. Of course I do love my father, but he seems always to be mentally preoccupied somehow. I am never real sure but that he may be troubled with my chatter. Sometimes I wonder if his abstraction means that he is thinking of his business, or, if he, too, may be grieving about his lost son, for, though Peyton may be wayward (I never knew what he did to anger father), I do know that he was one of the most lovable of boys and that he would do just anything for a person for whom he really cared. You cannot think how tender and kind he was to our dear mother during her long last illness. Whatever my brother did to displease our father, I know that it was nothing really wrong. It was the day before last New Years that they had words. For the very first time, I believe, Peyton defied our father, declaring that he was old enough to decide some things for himself.

“The next morning, dad and I waited breakfast for my brother, but, when he did not join us, father sent me to call him. When I reached his room, I saw at once that his bed had not been slept in and that all of his clothes were gone. I shall never forget the desolate feeling that was in my heart when I saw that dark empty closet and knew that my dear brother had run away. When I went back, I was afraid to tell father, but of course I had to. His anger was terrible.

“‘Barbara,’ he said sternly, ‘your brother is dead to us from this day forever more. Do not again mention his name in my presence.’

“I never have, but Megsy, my brother is not dead to me, and if only I could learn his whereabouts, I would make any sacrifice.

“Now this is what I wanted to tell you. I always suspected that he ran away to sea, for he began wanting to be a sailor when he was a very little boy. Yesterday I received a picture postcard from China. There was no message on it and the address was blurred, but it might have been his handwriting. Oh, Megsy, I would be the happiest girl in the world if I could be sure that Peyton sent it, for, at least, it would mean that he is well. I wanted to tell someone, and you are the only friend to whom I ever mention my brother’s name. What do you think about it? Your, Bab.”