Early in the afternoon Rex returned, and they caught the 2:45 local to Delphi. Kit could hardly keep her eyes off the beautiful scenery they were passing through. Every now and then the rich blueness of the lake would flash through the trees in the distance, and to the west there stretched long level fields of prairie-land, dipping ravines that unexpectedly led into woodland. Gradually the bluffs heightened as they neared the Wisconsin line above Waukegan, and just beyond the state line, between the shore and the region of the small lakes, Oconomowoc and Delevan, they came suddenly upon Delphi. It stood high upon the bluff, its college dominating the shady serenity of its quiet avenues.
“The Dean doesn’t keep a car,” said Rex as they walked through the gray stone station. “Besides, he thought I was bringing a boy who would not mind the hike up the hill.”
“I don’t mind a bit,” replied Kit. “I like it. It seems good to find real hills after all. I thought everything out here was just flat. I do hope they won’t be watching for us. It will be ever so much easier if I can just walk in before they get any kind of a shock, don’t you think?”
Rex did not tell her which was the house until they came to the two tall poplars at the entrance to the drive. Kit caught the murmur of the waves as they broke on the shore below and lifted her chin eagerly.
“Oh, I like it,” she cried. “This is it, isn’t it? Isn’t it dreamy? I only hope they’ll let me stay.”
7. The House Under the Bluff
Dear Family,
I can’t stop to write separate letters tonight to all of you, because I’m so full of Delphi that I can hardly think of anything else. First of all, Rex met me at the train with his sister Anne. They live next door and Rex is Uncle Bart’s pet educational proposition next to me.
Mother’s letter had not arrived and they were expecting Tommy any moment, when Rex and I walked in on them, and right here I must say they showed presence of mind. The Dean’s eyes twinkled as Rex explained things, and then I kissed Aunt Della, and explained to her too, and I’m sure that she was relieved. After Rex had gone, the Dean took me into his study after dinner, and we had a long heart-to-heart talk. I want you all to understand that he thinks I’m a good specimen of the undeveloped female brain.
I am going to enter the preparatory class at the college in October, and take what the Dean calls supplementary lessons from him along special lines. I don’t quite know all that this means, but I guess I can weather it. It probably has to do with cosmic makings (those were Rex’s words) of geology and all sorts of prehistoric stuff. I know the Dean mentioned one thing that began with a ‘paleo’ but I have forgotten the rest of it. I’ll let you know later.
I have a perfectly darling room. It looks right out over Lake Michigan. There’s a big square window to it that overhangs the edge of the bluff like the balcony of a Spanish villa. Our garden just topples right over into a ravine that ends up short on the shore. I never saw such abrupt cliffs in my life. Uncle Bart was showing me the layers of strata there that a little recent landslide had shown up, and he says that the formation is just exactly like it is out in Wyoming and Colorado.
Aunt Della is darling. It’s more fun to hear her tell of how she worried over a boy coming into the family. The whole house is filled from one end to the other with Uncle Bart’s treasures that he’s been collecting for years. You’re liable to stumble over a stuffed armadillo or a petrified slice of some prehistoric monster anywhere at all. I found a mummy case in the library closet, but there wasn’t anything in it at all, and I was awfully disappointed. I don’t know but what I like it after all, although I miss you dreadfully. I don’t even dare to think there are about a thousand miles between us.
So I won’t feel too out of touch with all of you, you must promise to write me often. Jean, I want you to tell me all that you hear from Ralph. I strongly suspect something is going on between you two, even though you haven’t said anything about it to me. We always talked things over together before, so now that I’m away we’ll have to do the discussing by letter.
Doris, be sure to keep me posted on all the things you are doing at school, and, Tommy, you are to give me the details on the progress of rebuilding Woodhow.
If you will do this, I know I’ll feel as if I’m right there at home and I won’t be homesick at all.
This is all I can write to you tonight because I’m so sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open. Aunt Della was just in to say good night. She told me again how glad she is that I’m not a boy. Uncle Bart hasn’t committed himself yet, but I think he’s curious about me anyway. Good night all, and write me oodles of news.
Love,
Kit.
At the same time that Kit was writing home, the Dean and Della stepped out on the broad porch. Every evening about nine-thirty passersby might have seen the flickering glow of the Dean’s good-night cigar. His evening cigar was a sort of nocturnal ceremonial. It gave him an excuse to step out into the fragrant darkness of the garden walk for a quiet little stroll before bedtime, and usually Della joined him.
So tonight they walked together, discussing the girl with the dark curls who had come to them from far-off New England, instead of the boy they had sent for.