Jane grew very thoughtful all of a sudden. She thought of her own home-coming each day after school. She remembered that sometimes—quite often, indeed—she had not wanted to go home at all; had thought it very stupid to sit in the house and study. She would much rather go to the house of a schoolmate, or bring a friend home to play with her. But mother did not approve of visiting on schooldays, and Jane’s good times always had to be put off until Friday and Saturday during term-time. Mother was always at home to welcome her, and to ask about her lessons, quite as much interested in everything that had happened as if she, too, were a little girl. Then Christopher would get home from his school and the twins would have a jolly romp together before study time. Still Jane had found it dull at home at times. She wondered why, when she thought of how much she loved her mother and when she saw how happy it made Letty to think of going home to a woman who was very dear and sweet but who wasn’t her own mother after all—not really and truly her mother.
The children had not spoken for some time. Christopher was busying himself with trying how many stars he could count without changing his position. Suddenly a shadowy figure whirled toward them out of the darkness. Letty caught her breath and half rose to her feet. Christopher grasped the step with both hands and ejaculated:—“Oh, cricky!” He grew very pale for a moment but controlled his feelings bravely. But Jane screamed outright and threw both her arms around Letty’s neck.
But the shadowy figure turned out to be only Jo Perkins on his bicycle. He carried a small envelope which he handed to Christopher.
“It’s a cablegram, Kit,” he said. “Run up to your grandfather with it, quick. It came about supper time and Huldah said she didn’t know but it might be something important and that I’d better ride in with it.”
Perk propped his bicycle against the steps and waited while the twins rushed up-stairs.
“It’s from father and mother,” shouted Christopher, tumbling up the stairs in the lead. “What does it say, grandfather, oh, what does it say?”
Jane scrambled up behind her brother.
“They’re coming home, they’re coming home!” she sang blissfully. “When, grandfather? When?”
Grandfather looked a bit startled at this abrupt entrance. He fumbled for his spectacles, put them on and unfolded the cablegram carefully, while grandmother leaned over his shoulder, almost as impatient as the children.
“We sail ‘Metric’ Thursday. All well,” read grandfather.