“Frank says your place, if it was properly worked, would make one of the finest fruit farms up there, ’cause your land all slopes to the south as far as the river. He says if he had it he’d sell off the heavy timber for cash and put the money right into hardy varieties of fruit and hogs.”
Kit laughed. “Can’t you see Doris’s face over the hogs, with all her aristocratic ideas? Did he tell Dad that?”
“I don’t know,” Billie said doubtfully. “Uncle Tom’s kind of hard to get confidential with over his own affairs, but I wouldn’t worry, Kit, if I were you. Things always come out all right.”
“They do not,” returned Kit calmly. “Even so, thanks ever so much for telling me, Billie. You may have changed the course of destiny, because I can tell you now I’m going home.”
After dinner that night Kit was out for a walk alone with only Sandy for company. Kit was wondering whether it would be best to write first to her mother or to Jean. Jean would be in New York anyway, so perhaps she wouldn’t know any more about it than Kit did. How she wished to know just exactly what the family’s plans were for the winter.
Finally she decided to write to Becky. Even though her decision might not be a favorable one, you always felt sure you were getting it straight without any affectionate bias.
Accordingly, a confidential appeal went East, and back came the reply by return mail, as Kit had known it would.
Dear Kit,
I had been thinking about you when your letter came, so I suppose our thoughts must have crossed.
There’s no doubt at all but what your mother needs you badly right here, especially with Jean in New York. What Billie told you was about the truth.
If I were you, I’d have a heart-to-heart talk with the Dean himself, and I know your mother will be just as relieved as can be to hear you’re homeward bound.
Lovingly,
Becky.
Kit was delighted over the letter, and went directly to the Dean with its message. He was deeply engrossed in getting up his first notes and commentaries on the urn and statue. It had not seemed for the past two or three weeks as if he resided any longer in Delphi at all. Kit told Della she was positive he was wandering through Egypt all the time, the Egypt of five thousand years ago. And it was only the shadow of his self that seemed to sit closeted for hours in the study.
He hardly glanced up now as she came in, but smiled and nodded when he saw who it was, keeping on with his writing.