“I know what you mean,” she said, this Motherbird who somehow never failed to understand the trials of her brood. “Responsibility is one of the best gifts that life brings to us. I’ve always evaded it myself, Jean, so I know the fight you have had. You know how easy everything was made for me before we came here to live in these blessed old hills. There was always plenty of money, plenty of servants. I never worried one particle over the realities of life until that day when Cousin Roxy taught me what it meant to be a helpmate as well as a wife. So you see, it was only this last year that I learned the lesson which has come to you girls early in life.”
“Oh, I know,” as Jean glanced up quickly to object, “you’re not a child, but you seem just a kiddie to me, Jean. It was fearfully hard for me to give up our home at the Cove, and all the little luxuries I had been accustomed to. Most of all I dreaded the change for you girls, but now, I know, it was the very best thing that could have happened to us. Do you remember what Cousin Roxy says she always puts into her prayers? ‘Give me an understanding heart, O Lord.’ I guess that is what we all lacked, and me especially, an understanding heart.”
“Doesn’t Cousin Roxy seem awfully well acquainted with God, Motherie,” said Jean thoughtfully. “I don’t mean that irreverently, but it really is true. Why, I’ve been going to our church for years and hearing the service over and over until I know it all by heart, but when she gets up at prayer meeting at the little white church, it seems as if really and truly, He is there in the midst of them.”
“She’s an angel in a gingham apron,” laughed Mrs. Robbins. “Now, you must go to bed, dear. It’s getting chilly. Did you see how glad Joe was to have us back? Dear little fellow. I’m glad he had the courage to come back to us. I called up Roxy as soon as we arrived at the station, and she will be over in the morning early to plan about your trip to Weston.”
“Oh, but—you can’t spare me yet, can you?” exclaimed Jean. “It’s still so cold, and I wouldn’t be one bit happy thinking of you managing alone here.”
“I’ll keep Mrs. Gorham until you get back. It’s only twelve a month for her, and that can come out of my own little income, so we shall manage all right. I want you to go, Jean.” She held the slender figure close in her arms, her cheek pressed to Jean’s, and added softly, “The first to fly from the nest.”
Jean felt curiously uplifted and comforted after that talk. It was cold in her own room upstairs. She raised the curtain and looked out at Greenacres flooded with winter moonlight. They were surely Whiteacres tonight. It was the very end of February and no sign of spring yet. She knew over in Long Island the pussy willow buds would be out and the air growing mild from the salt sea breezes, but here in the hills it was still bleak and frost bound.
What would it be like at Weston? Elliott was away at a boys’ school. She felt as if Fate were lending her to a fairy godmother for a while, and she had liked Cousin Beth. There was something about her,—a curious, indefinable, intimate charm of personality that attracted one to her. Cousin Roxy was breezy and courageous, a very tower of strength, a Flying Victory standing on one of Connecticut’s bare old hills and defying fate or circumstance to ruffle her feathers, but Cousin Beth was full of little happy chuckles and confidences. Her merry eyes, with lids that drooped at the outer corners, fairly invited you to tell her anything you longed to, and in spite of her forty odd years, she still seemed like a girl.
Snuggled down under the big soft home-made comforters, Jean fell asleep, still “cogitating” as Cousin Roxy would have called it, on the immediate future, wondering how she could turn this visit into ultimate good for the whole family. There was one disadvantage in being born a Robbins. Your sympathies and destiny were linked so indissolubly to all the other Robbinses that you felt personally responsible for their happiness and welfare. So Jean dozed away thinking how with Cousin Beth’s help she would find a way of making money so as to lighten the load at home and give Kit a chance as the next one to fly.
The winter sunshine had barely clambered to the crests of the hills the following morning when Cousin Roxy drove up, with Ella Lou’s black coat sparkling with frost.