“He didn’t have a sweetheart, did he?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem as though he would at seventeen. But she wanted him to, anyway, and say farewell to her in England.”
“She does make me sick! Now, Anne, I’ve just one criticism. You’re going to learn to dismount all right; but if you’d only look less scared when you ride toward the Dauphin! You know you ought to look soulful, as though you were seeing a distant vision, but you don’t. You look frightened to death.”
“Then I look just the way I feel, Virginia. I’d rather ride an elephant than that Napoleon. I am scared of him, and I may as well admit it. He’s the most terrorizing animal I’ve ever known!” And nothing that Napoleon’s trainer could say as to his harmlessness and even amicability of disposition, could convince the trembling Joan, who, in perseverance and fear, still continued to make herself dismount.
But when the last Saturday came, all difficulties seemed overcome. Joan had actually dismounted successfully half a dozen times; the Black Prince had, after all, decided that he was more impressive when his charger walked; and Queen Elizabeth had ridden three times in her carriage, borne by eight staggering retainers, without its once breaking down. No more rehearsals were to be held until the final one on Tuesday morning; and costumes were packed away, while Napoleon gratefully munched his oats in St. Helen’s stable, and wondered at the unaccustomed respite he was enjoying.
On that Saturday came Virginia’s father with her Grandmother Webster and Aunt Nan. She had never been so happy in her life, she thought, as she walked excitedly up and down the platform, and waited for the train. Would her father find her much changed, she wondered, and would he look the same? Never before in their lives had they been separated, and nine months seemed a very long time. His letter of yesterday had been written from Vermont where he had visited a week, and where, he told her, he had been very happy. And her grandmother had also written, saying how much they were enjoying him. She was so glad, she said to herself, as the train whistled in the distance—so thankful that at last Grandmother Webster was beginning to appreciate her father. If it were really true, she simply couldn’t be any happier.
It was really true! Of that she was assured. For after her father had jumped from the train to hold his little daughter close in his arms for a moment, he had turned to help her grandmother, who was just alighting, and whom, to Virginia’s great joy, he called “Mother.” Then her grandmother kissed her, and said to her father, “John, hasn’t she grown?”; and jolly Aunt Nan, who came up in the rear, hugged her hard, and said in the most understanding kind of way, “Now this whole family is together at last!” Finally, as if to add the finishing touch and make everything complete, Grandmother Webster, after she and Aunt Nan had greeted Miss King, who stood on the platform, said, “And I think, years ago, you met my son, Virginia’s father.”
The next three days were like the perfect realization of a dream. “The whole family” roamed together about the campus; listened to the farewell sermon, which the white-haired bishop gave on Sunday morning in the chapel, and the last vesper service, at which every one cried; heard the Senior essays on Monday afternoon; and attended Miss King’s reception on Monday evening. It seemed like a great family reunion with all the fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters; and it took no time at all for everybody to become acquainted with everybody else. Virginia proudly introduced her father to all the girls; and it was not long before the four Vigilantes and their adviser were listening to tales of the real Vigilante days.
“And I hope you’ll every one come to Wyoming for August,” he said genially, “You’ll be well-chaperoned, for Virginia’s Aunt Nan is coming, and there’s room and a welcome for all.”
That night Priscilla, before they went to sleep, confided her hopes to Virginia.