“Oh, Percy,” exclaimed Gretel, the moment she and her brother were alone together, having left Miss Heath at the Barlows’ cottage, “isn’t she the dearest, loveliest young lady you ever saw, and aren’t you glad you’ve found her again? I heard you tell her you’d been trying to find her.”
“I am indeed,” answered Mr. Douane, heartily.
CHAPTER IX
THE LAW OF LOVE
THE ten days that followed were about the happiest Gretel had ever spent in her life. There were so many interesting and delightful things to do, and each day as it passed seemed pleasanter than the one before. Somewhat to the surprise of their parents, Jerry and Geraldine—who had very decided likes and dislikes—had taken a great fancy to Gretel, and the three children were constantly together. Mr. and Mrs. Barlow were glad to encourage the intimacy, and Gretel was included in all the pleasures of the twins. But much as she liked the companionship of her two merry little friends, there was another person in the Barlows’ cottage for whose society she cared a great deal more, and that was Miss Heath, the pretty young teacher. True to her promise, Miss Heath was always ready to play, or to speak German; and to hear music and talk in her dear father’s language were the two greatest pleasures of Gretel’s life. She was growing to love Miss Heath very dearly, and the young lady, touched at first by Gretel’s evident admiration for her playing, soon grew to return the little girl’s affection.
Perhaps Gretel did not enjoy quite as much of her brother’s society as in the first week of their stay at Old Point, but she did not mind, for when not with her was he not sure to be either walking or driving with her dear Miss Heath? Gretel was an unselfish little soul, and she rejoiced heartily in the knowledge that her new friend was having a good time as well as herself.
So the bright spring days came and went, and Gretel was very happy. If it had not been for one thing—one painful memory—she would not have had a care in the world; but try as she would to forget it, that one uncomfortable recollection would persist in haunting even her happiest moments. Sometimes after she had gone to bed at night, she would bury her face in the pillow, and wonder miserably what Miss Heath would think if she were ever to learn that her little friend had once stolen a ticket to fairy-land. Yes, that was what she had done; the more she thought about it the more certain she became. She had known perfectly well that it was her duty to return that ticket to the box office, and yet she had willfully kept it, and used it herself.
“If I only knew the person who lost it were rich, and didn’t mind very much,” she said to herself over and over again, “it wouldn’t be quite so dreadful, but it may have belonged to somebody who was poor, and who loved music just as much as I do.” And then she would try to imagine how she would have felt if she had bought a ticket to fairy-land and lost it.
“I’m quite sure I could never have forgiven the person who used it,” she told herself with conviction.
It was a cold, rainy afternoon in early April, and Gretel and Miss Heath were alone in the Barlows’ parlor, enjoying an hour of music. Mr. and Mrs. Barlow had lingered at the hotel after luncheon, and the twins were up-stairs.
For the first time that day, Miss Heath had succeeded in persuading Gretel to play for her, and she was much impressed by the child’s evident talent.