Chapter XXV: Ivy's Friend

In the middle of the afternoon as Ivy sat alone on a bench beneath a tree, listening to the band and watching the children circling merrily round a number of maypoles, she heard a voice at her side:

"Excuse me, but may I have part of your seat?"

"Why, certainly!" she said, making room for the speaker, a middle-aged man with genial blue eyes and a blonde beard, who was dressed in an easy-fitting, light suit, and carried a large book which he placed with his hat on the grass at his feet.

"I guess he's a friend of the housekeeper's; I noticed him speaking with her to-day," thought Ivy, her gaze straying back to the light-footed dancers.

"It looks easy, twirling those ribbons around the poles, but isn't it rather warm weather, for dancing?"

Ivy turned upon him a pair of eyes full of pity for his ignorance.

"Why, it would be lovely! I'm sure I'd never think of the heat if--" she glanced eloquently at the crutches which leaned against the tree.

"It's too bad, at a time like this especially; I shouldn't like that either! Though my dancing days are past, I like to walk a lot and gather 'yarbs an' things,'" he said. Taking up the big black book, he displayed a collection of pressed plants, leaves and flowers, in which Ivy took so much interest that he showed her through the book, explaining the value and rarity of his treasures gathered from many places, and relating incidents connected with his travels in search of them.

Ivy gave a sigh of admiration.

"How lovely to travel that way! One could write a book about it!"

"Do you like to write? I hope then you will get a chance some day to visit all those countries."

Ivy shook her head.

"Not hopping around on those," she said bitterly, and with a few sympathetic questions he drew from her the sad story of her affliction. She was afterwards surprised at her own volubility, being, as a rule, very shy with strangers.

"I have seen children who were even worse than you completely cured," he said; he related several instances while Ivy listened with flaming cheeks and glistening eyes. A dozen questions trembled on her tongue when a crowd of girls came along, one of whom paused beside her, saying,

"Ivy, Ivy, come on! Don't you hear the bell?"

"Oh, Laura, I forgot all about eating," said Ivy somewhat ruefully.

The stranger smiled.

"Then you are the only one to forget, for see, the youngsters are racing from everywhere right upon us." He glanced at his watch. "Four o'clock--it's time for me to seek my place at the visitors' table!" He picked up his book and hat while the girls hurried away.

The children assembled in front of the Towers and marched in five battalions headed by chiefs wearing different colored tissue-paper wreaths.

Laura with yellow roses led the yellow-capped tots; Vera with blue flowers, the blue-capped ones; Hermione crowned with lilacs, the lavender; Ivy in crimson roses, the red, and Alene in pink roses, the pink.

A few of the children marched in wrong companies. Lois, despite her blue cap, clung closely to her beloved "Lawa."

"With Claude it's not color blindness, but Nettie," explained Ivy, when that rebellious red-cap was seen stepping brazenly in Vera's train.

Vera for once seemed to forget herself in seeing to the welfare of her small charges, who one and all regarded her with admiring eyes; she enjoyed the sensation of being the centre of attraction and graciously accepted their homage, although the majority were "nobodies" whom she had affected to despise.

"Vera bitter has become Vera sweet," observed Ivy, giving a shy nod to the Botanist who was seated with the other grown-ups at the visitors' table watching the children filing past. Beside him was Mrs. Ramsey, resplendent in black net over coral-colored silk, who at that moment was explaining for his benefit:

"The tall, fair girl, wearing blue flowers, is my daughter Vera, and there is Hermione, my oldest, in white with the lilac wreath."

"The Happy-Go-Luckys are partial to tissue-paper," Mr. Dawson said, smilingly.

"The dear girls! And the tots look like fairies in those pretty caps!" said the lady, proud of her daughters' success.

"This active life has certainly done wonders for Freddie's little niece. She was pale and delicate when she came here in the spring and look at her now!" and Miss Marlin, a slight little woman in Quakerish gray, smiled at Alene whose cheeks outvied the roses in her wreath.

"Her mother will be delighted to find her so improved," said Mrs. Ramsey. "My girls think the world of Alene and that funny club, the what-do-you-call-'ems?"

"The Happy-Go-Luckys," suggested Mrs. Major, who wore her best black silk in honor of the day.

The Happy-Go-Luckys, unconscious of having won a champion, passed on to their respective tables; soon all were placed and with mirth and laughter the feast began.

And what a feast it was!

"Niagaras of lemonade, seas of milk and coffee, pyramids of fruit, hills of candy, mountains of cake, whole continents of toothsome things--"

"Not forgetting Sandwich Islands," said Jack Lever, interrupting Mat's flow of oratory.

"Is that in reference to our cannibalistic appetites?" inquired Mark Griffin.

"'The bogie man will get you if you don't be good!'" squealed Artie Orr in a high falsetto voice.

"Who is that farmer-looking gentleman at the visitors' table? The one speaking to Mr. Dawson?" Ivy asked in an aside of Kizzie who flitted from one table to another, her rosy face like a small sun shining above a cloud of pink and white lawn.

"He's visitin' Mr. Fred--he's from the city, I think. He just came to-day and I didn't hear his name."

"Why, that's Dr. Medway," said Alene; "he's from Dr. Luke's hospital."

"I never dreamed he was a doctor! I talked away like a graphophone, and he told me about many children worse than I am who were cured, just think!"

"Oh, Ivy, Ivy, he'll cure you then!" cried Alene with a quick breath of ecstasy.

Ivy's joy subsided; the tears came in her eyes.

"But I guess it would cost a fortune," she said dejectedly.

Shortly after lunch Dr. Medway, sauntering along the walk enjoying a cigar and escorted by Prince, who had taken a fancy to him, was arrested by a voice.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but are you Dr. Medway?"

"I am. What can I do for you, young man?"

"Ivy, the little lame girl--I'm her brother, Hugh Bonner--you told her about so many cures--Oh, sir, if you would undertake to cure her--why, I haven't any money now, but I'd pay you some day if it took me a lifetime, and I'd--I'd work my fingers to the bone for you!" cried the lad, forgetting in his earnestness the dignified speech he had prepared, and speaking with all the intensity of his long-cherished desire.

"You are a good brother, Hugh, my lad, but I'm not a Shylock. I heard of the little girl before I came here. I shall see your mother about her to-morrow; and be assured the main thing is to cure Ivy--nothing else matters!" and the doctor gave Hugh's hand a vigorous grip.