And then the Misses Herrick began resolutely to talk of something else, and Elizabeth knew no more than she did before, and had by no means settled satisfactorily the affairs of the Brady family.
Clearly, if she wanted to know anything she must find it out for herself, and if she wished to do anything to improve the condition of the Bradys she must take matters into her own hands.
If her father would only come home and explain everything to her! But when he received her letter he would certainly come, and with the thought of this possibility the world grew brighter.
The days went by and Elizabeth paid frequent visits to the closed room. It did not once occur to her that it was not by any means an honorable proceeding for her to slip into her aunt's room as soon as that lady left the house, take the keys, and go to a place which it was evidently intended that she should know nothing about. Elizabeth would have scorned to read some one else's letter, or open bureau drawers, or investigate boxes. But this seemed so different. A room was unlike a bureau drawer or a box, she thought. Surely she had a perfect right to go into any room that she wished in her own home, and find out, if she could, about her own family.
But her repeated visits threw no light on the subject. She could not discover to whom it belonged.
It was not very long before something most exciting and utterly unprecedented occurred in the family. A letter was received from Mrs. Redmond, Elizabeth's aunt in Virginia, stating that Valentine Herrick had trouble with his eyes, and that he was coming North to consult a Philadelphia oculist. Of course his aunt's house would be open to him, and it would also be an opportunity for him to become acquainted with his sister. Mrs. Redmond deplored the necessity for bringing up the children apart from one another, and would be only too glad to have Elizabeth come for a long stay at her house, if Miss Herrick would allow her to return with Valentine.
Now the Misses Herrick were not particularly fond of entertaining visitors. It interfered too seriously with their accustomed pursuits. And above all, to have a boy! Valentine must now be about fourteen years old, and could anything be more objectionable to have in the house than a boy of fourteen?
However, there was nothing to be done but to say that he should come, and so the day was fixed, and the family, from the servants up, were in a flutter of excitement. Elizabeth was truly delighted. It would be a vast improvement to have some one in the house besides her stately aunts, and she had longed many a time to know her brother. She was doubtful about boys in general, but then she did not know any but the Brady boys, who were inclined to be rough. This one would be her own brother, and besides, it would be a change, and variety is always desirable.
It was four o'clock one afternoon when a hansom dashed up to the door. Elizabeth and Julius Cæsar, in the window, saw a tall, strong-looking boy jump out, pay the driver, and run up the steps. There was a resounding ring at the door-bell, a loud boyish voice was heard asking if Miss Herrick lived there, and from that moment the old house in Fourth Street lost its accustomed quiet.
He came into the parlor, and at the same instant Julius Cæsar fled away to the safer precincts of the kitchen. He also disliked boys. Elizabeth remained hidden in the window-seat, overcome with shyness.