Chapter FOURTEEN: An Old Friendship Renewed

“Watch me turn a cart-wheel,” shrieked Wiggles, flashing down the veranda steps and turning cart-wheels so rapidly down the path to where the three other girls were waiting for her by the gate, that it made them dizzy to look at her.

“There,” she puffed triumphantly, coming up rosy and breathless and shaking back a mop of tumbled black curls, “I feel better now that I’ve let off steam. That’s to prove that I’m not an invalid any more. Won’t it seem nice to be back at school again, Jet?”

“Look how you’ve tumbled your clean dress,” reproved Jeannette, looking her sister over critically. “Mother wouldn’t like you to act like that, anyway,--it isn’t ladylike.” Jeannette was fond on occasions of adopting an elder-sister tone.

“Well, who wants to be a lady?” returned Wiggles, tossing her curls and casting a quick glance at her crisp linen frock. “I don’t, I’m sure. When I get so old that I can’t jump around or climb fences or wade in brooks or do anything that’s fun at all, then I’ll have lots and lots of time left over in which to be ladylike; and, oh, won’t I hate it!”

On the green lawn opposite, the handsome lad astride the white pony had sat up with interest and an alert look in his dark eyes, as the mischievous Wiggles went whirling down the path.

“That’s some girl,” he told the white pony, and his eyes rested with approval on the glistening black curls of the small maiden who was waiting impatiently while her hair-ribbon was more securely anchored, and Jeannette straightened the belt of her dress.

“I _never_ saw a girl in France or Spain or Japan or England or any other place turn cart-wheels like that,” Donald MacAllister confided to the pony, who tossed its head impatiently at being held in check. “American girls beat them all, that’s sure. You know, I’d like to know that girl, and those boys that I saw over there yesterday. It’s awfully lonesome not knowing any one around, isn’t it, Snow Queen? Come on, let’s do some tricks.”

Over the stone wall went the pony, guided by Donald’s capable hands, and the four children opposite watched with interest as the sturdy boy put the pretty animal through all kinds of tricks. Finally he jumped erect, and balancing himself on Snow Queen’s back as she trotted along, he carelessly reached up and plucked a spray of leaves from the branches overhead.

“Oh, oh, look at that!” breathed three of the girls in admiration, watching the good-looking lad with round-eyed amazement.

“Pooh--showing off,” said Wiggles coolly, tossing her curls and glancing from the corner of her eyes as Donald easily lowered himself into the saddle and jumped back over the stone wall again. “Thought you were all in such a dreadful hurry. I’ll race you to the brook.” And in a second all four girls were off, leaving the boy looking after them with wistful eyes.

“What’s the matter, Donald?” asked a laughing voice behind him, and he turned with a smile to greet the slim brown-haired lady who was strolling over the lawn toward him.

“Just wishing I knew some of the boys and girls around here,” he replied, dismounting as he spoke, and tucking his arm through his mother’s with a lordly air that was most amusing.

“Well, Don, I’m sure you’ll soon get acquainted. It’s been many, many years since I was last in Meadowbrook,” she continued with a slight sigh, “but I am sure that some of my old friends must still live around here, and I know that you’ll enjoy having a real home and playmates at last.”

“Yesterday I saw some bully-looking boys, and this morning a girl that turned cart-wheels like lightning, over there,” Donald responded with animation, motioning toward The Lilacs. “Do you know who lives there?”

“Not any more. When I was a girl--” began Mrs. MacAllister, only to break off and look with startled eyes at the figure that appeared on the lawn opposite. “Can I believe my own eyes?” she gasped, as Mrs. Carr, carrying scissors and a large basket, and intent on gathering bouquets for the house, came into view, with Boots following at her heels.

“I do believe that The Lilacs has never been sold, and that our old friends, the Carrs, are still living there. How I hope so! It will make my home-coming very happy if Jean and Elsie still live opposite. I heard that Jean married a doctor.”

With a graceful gesture very much like her son’s, she caught interested Donald by the hand and hastened across the road to where Grandmother Carr was busily snipping lilac blossoms.

“Marie Deering!” cried Mrs. Carr, dropping lilacs, basket and all, and seizing Mrs. MacAllister’s outstretched hands. “Can it be you who have come back to White Birches after all these years?”

“Indeed, it is, dear Mrs. Carr,” returned Donald’s mother, smiling, “only I’m Marie MacAllister now, and this is my son, Donald.”

She pulled forward the brown-eyed boy as she spoke, who bowed with an easy grace most engaging, and then stooped to recover the basket and tumbled lilac-sprays.

“You see,” Mrs. MacAllister continued eagerly, “I’ve always wanted really to settle down in my childhood home, so White Birches has become my own again, and I only hope that I am in America to stay.”

“Then you have been living abroad?” questioned Mrs. Carr, smiling at Donald, who returned the smile with interest.

“Yes. White Birches was sold right after my parents died so suddenly,” explained Mrs. MacAllister. “Two years later I met Douglas MacAllister, and married him, and ever since we have roamed over the world, so that my poor Donald has lived in his own land less than in any other. For the past two years we have been in England, and at last I am happy to say that my husband’s business has brought him back to our own country, and here we intend to remain.”

“We heard that an English widow had bought White Birches,” said Grandmother Carr, looking much relieved.

Mrs. MacAllister gave a low laugh. “That’s the way gossip confused things,” she responded gayly. “Mr. MacAllister will not be here for another six weeks, and we are still spending most of our time between Meadowbrook and New York, for the place was badly in need of repairs before we could move in, but another few days will find us entirely settled, and then I want you surely to come over and bring Elsie and Jean and your little granddaughters, so that my boy may become acquainted. How I shall enjoy renewing my friendship with Jean. My poor boy has never lived long enough in one land to know what a real chum is like, and now I hope to give him all he has missed in these years of travel.”

“Then it is your beautiful white pony that the children have been talking about,” Mrs. Carr said with a smile at Donald, who gave her a merry glance.

“Yes, that is Snow Queen,” he replied, “and I have another just like her, called ‘White Beauty.’ I’d love to have the girls ride on them any time they would like. They are very gentle,” he continued hastily, “and wouldn’t hurt them at all.”

“I know that they would be more than pleased,” replied Grandmother Carr, “and it is very kind of you, for both children are fond of riding.”

“Is the little girl with black curls your granddaughter?” asked Donald with interest.

“Yes, that’s Wiggles,--I should say Elizabeth,” laughed Mrs. Carr, “but ‘Wiggles’ so expresses her love of perpetual motion that she is called it most of the time.”

“I noticed her this morning,” returned Mrs. MacAllister, “and thought what a captivating little mischief she was. To think that she is Jean’s daughter!”

“Jeannette is Wiggles’ older sister, and the two other girls are their inseparable companions, Marion West and Alice Maxfield,” added Mrs. Carr. “I don’t believe you have seen Cubby as yet. She is the baby of the family, and her real name is Evelyn.”

“And the boys that I saw yesterday afternoon, who were they?” put in Donald eagerly.

“They are Jeannette’s and Elizabeth’s cousins, Billy and Dick Gerard, and are fine manly boys, just bubbling over with mischief. The boy with dark-red hair is Marion’s brother, Hugh West. I’m sure you will like them all, and have many good times together after you become acquainted.”

“Couldn’t you and Jean and Elsie bring the little girls over to see us some afternoon next week?” asked Mrs. MacAllister. “Any day that suits you will be convenient for me.”

“Please do,” begged Donald.

“We should love to,” responded Grandmother Carr, smiling into the pleading dark eyes that begged her to say “yes,” so beseechingly. “I can’t promise which day it will be, but if it is satisfactory to you, we will just run in informally.”

“Any day you like. I so anticipate seeing you all again and having an old time powwow. We have many years to make up, you know,” laughed Mrs. MacAllister. “Come, Don. If we are going into town to see the decorators, we shall have to hurry. Good-by, Mrs. Carr. Please remember me to Jean and Elsie, and don’t forget your promise to run in.”

“And bring Dick and Billy, too, if they can come,” called back Donald.

Mrs. Carr returned to her flower-gathering in a contented frame of mind.

Marie Deering and Jean Carr had been intimate friends in their childhood days, long before Jean had married Dr. Eaton, or Marie had become Mrs. MacAllister, and she knew how pleasant the revival of friendship would be to them all; while gallant, sturdy Donald had greatly appealed to her, and would be a pleasant companion for the children. She could easily imagine the many good times they would have together; and, picking up her basket of blossoms in one hand, and Boots in the other, she hurried into the house to tell the good news.