When Virginia and Helen came up the path towards the Curtis home, they missed the little figure of Charles Augustus hobbling forth to meet them with joyous greetings.
“We’ll go to the front door,” suggested Helen. So they passed around the house and, ascending the steps, knocked at the weather-beaten front entrance.
“Come in,” cried the shrill voice of Charles Augustus. “I can’t open the door.”
Virginia obeyed the command of the child with a smile of delight. As she swung the door back, the pleasant odor of frying doughnuts assailed her nostrils. Looking through the rooms, she could see Mrs. Curtis in the kitchen, fork in hand, awaiting their entrance with a look of inquiry which melted into a smile of welcome as she recognized them.
In the midst of pillows, Charles Augustus sat in one chair with his legs propped up upon another. As usual, he was bright, cheerful and talkative.
Virginia turned towards the child and then she gave a little gasp of joy as a big fellow with black eyes and a wonderful smile lifted himself with a cane and limped towards her.
“Joe!” she trilled, her sparkling blue eyes revealing her heart’s rejoicing. “Joe!” she repeated, in a voice which breathed its own enchantment.
He was almost to her, his face alight with his happiness.
“Joe!” she whispered again, and gave a startled glance of astonishment as this huge fellow with dancing eyes stood upon one leg, balanced himself with his cane and thrust forth an encircling arm. Rooted to the spot, she could not evade it as it drew her to him and, with fascinated eyes and curious thrills, she watched his head bend slowly towards her.
“Joe”–this time it was the voice of his mother speaking–“Where did you meet Virginia?”