"Let them come," howled Joel. Then he laid hold of her gown and blubbered into it. "O dear! Please let 'em come!"
Just then in came Hooper, who appeared not to notice the astonishing state of things as he held out to his mistress a yellow envelope, and then discreetly retired.
"It's well you promised, Joel," said Madam Van Ruypen, grimly, throwing down the yellow sheet, which she tore out of the envelope, "and it was just in the nick of time. Those children are on the way, and will be here this afternoon."
Meantime an express train from another direction was rapidly bearing the party from the Presbrey School. And at this identical minute Pip was pressing his thin little face against the window-pane, as he had slipped from his parlor chair to rest his tired legs. "What would it be like to go to Ben's house and be with him all the time?" For Pip never for a moment lost sight of the fact that it was Ben, and Ben alone, who was all the world to him.
He stood so for some minutes, his gaze idly resting on the flying landscape, of which he could not have told a single feature. Then he gave a long sigh and glanced longingly across the aisle at Ben, comfortable in his chair over a book, for Jasper was asleep in the chair ahead. Besides, he wasn't to be talked to, so the doctor had given orders, on the home journey.
"Hey—what is it?" Ben in turning a page happened to glance up and catch a glimpse of the earnest little eyes.
"Nothing," Pip tried to say, but he made no success of it.
"Oh, come over here," said Ben, in a low voice, because of Jasper. And tossing aside the book, he crowded Pip in next to his window. "Now then, sir, what is it?"
"Nothing," said Pip, in a joyful little way. He could say it now, as he had what he wanted—Ben to himself.