“Ben was always good to me. He was very busy at the theatre all winter, but whenever he could spare the time he took me for walks. Once he took me to a concert. A lady sang, oh, so beautifully!
“And there was the church music, too. I loved it there; it was a very big church with beautiful stained glass windows. The organ hummed so grandly and little boys in white gowns and voices like angels sang. Oh, it was wonderful!”
“I see you are fond of music,” observed Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, glancing with pleased surprise at the little girl’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes.
“Oh, so fond!” replied Letty eagerly.
Then she stopped, seized with a new fit of shyness. How had it come about that she should be chattering so freely all this time to the great lady of whom she had felt in such awe an hour before; the writer of books! Somehow she had forgotten all about her greatness and riches; she had felt only the loving kindness and sympathy of her manner.
Ever since her mother’s death Letty had had an odd, tight feeling around her heart; as if it had been tucked into a case that was too small for it. When Ben died the case had grown smaller and tighter until it cut like a metal band. She had never been able to talk to any one of her grief until something in Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s manner had appealed to the trustfulness of the sensitive, lonely child. And her heart felt less swollen and sore after she had spoken.
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones asked no more questions for a time, and Letty went over in her mind her day’s experience; the gay, happy children, the big, sunny farmhouse with its green lawns and orchard and last, but not least, the good dinner and general homey feeling.
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s thoughts were busy too, and all that Letty had told her made her the more decided to take the girl from her present surroundings. But she said nothing to Letty. She would wait until she had had her talk, as she had determined, with Mrs. Drake.
In the meantime the twins, left at home at Sunnycrest, felt a bit flat.
“I’m glad Mrs. Hartwell-Jones has bought the ponies,” said Jane, idly swinging on the gate. “’Cause she’ll take us driving with them lots of times, I think.”