“Like the building of a fire under the barn to keep his cat warm.”
“Yes, and making a ladder of kindling wood and climbing up to the second story on it.”
“He is a pretty naughty boy,” finished Dr. 162 Helen, “and a very sweet attractive one withal. I hope I made it clear to-day, that he is not to go about eating medicine. Now I must hear how Mrs. Eldred is, and what sort of a journey you had. Did Catherine make you properly comfortable?”
Hannah drew close to Dr. Helen and cuddled her hand as she answered. Then she suddenly said: “O, you know, Frieda and I saw Miss Lyndesay just before we came away. Do tell about it, Frieda.”
Frieda’s face lighted at the name. “She is very wonderful,” she said shyly. “She said: ‘Let me greet myself to them.’ She finds herself well, and her house is beautiful.”
“I am so glad. Thank you very much for bringing us direct word from her. See! this is the portrait she painted of Catherine some time ago.” And Dr. Helen took Frieda a little apart to get a good light on the painting of Catherine and Hotspur, almost the only picture the big room with its walls of books contained. It developed that Frieda was very fond of dogs and her rapture over the picture made it necessary to call in the original, who instantly recognized in her a discriminating soul. Frieda dropped down on the leather window-seat and fondled his tawny sides with the deepest feeling of rest she had had in two days. “He understands me,” she thought, with almost passionate gratitude.
163Polly and Dot bade her good-by in a few minutes. “I’m going to ask you to go out on the river with me and talk German to me all alone. I’ve studied it in college,” said Polly, “and I do want to see whether I can understand a real German. We won’t let Catherine or Hannah go. I should be afraid to try before them, but I don’t believe I should be at all afraid of you.”
Frieda caught Polly’s hand in hers, and suddenly carried it to her lips and kissed it. Polly reddened a little, while Dot turned abruptly away and made her adieux to Catherine and Hannah.
“Isn’t she a dear?” sighed Polly, as she and Dot went down the walk. “I do think she’s as charming as a picture in a sweet old-fashioned book, and I want to learn to read the printing that describes the picture.”
“Well, you may for all of me,” replied Dot. “But I don’t believe I’d ever feel safe with her. I felt all hands and feet, and if she should ever kiss my hand!”