11. Father At Home
"Father coming home?" cries Betty, as Mrs. Langdale folds up the letter, from which she has just read an extract, "O mother, how beautiful, coming home the day after to-morrow!"
"How jolly!" shouts Bob. "Three cheers for father!" "Jolly, jolly, three cheers!" echo the younger children; and mother says:--
"Well, it
is good news. Such a dreadful time it has been. I declare I've not felt quite myself one single minute since he went away. And, then, the money, too; not that he'll be well enough to go on with his work for months to come."
To Betty, however, the one joyful fact is enough.
"But to have father home again! It seems almost years since that night when he lay on the couch, so white and still. I say, mother, do let us give him a real welcome home--do let us make him see how glad we all are!"
"Why, Betty, what a girl you are! You really should think before you speak. You know very well that we haven't a penny to spend on anything."
"Of course, I know. But, mother, that isn't what I mean. Couldn't we
do something? For instance, I'm sure dear father likes to see things neat and nice. Couldn't we have a real big, spring-clean all over the house?"
"A 'spring' clean in summer, you silly child!"
"Well, you know what I mean. Let's have the curtains down, and the carpets up, and polish the furniture all over."
"That's a jolly good idea of yours, Betty," cries Bob, enthusiastically. "And I tell you what, you've helped me ever so much lately, now I'll just turn round and help
you. I'm off to get the small pincers from father's tool chest. Won't I have the carpets up in no time! If we all work together we shall soon get the job done."
Betty gives her brother a grateful look, but mother says:--
"I don't think your father will care a bit whether the house is tidy or not. He has never said a word to me about the place all the years we've lived here."
"Oh, but think! Coming straight from the hospital. We must make everything bright and cheerful. Poor father! Mother, do you feel well enough to wash and iron the curtains?"
"Yes, I'll do them; and Clara must clean the windows. But, really, I don't see the use of all this fuss and upset."
"I'll wash all the ornaments and clean the pictures," says quiet Lucy.
"O Betty, may we darn up the holes in the chair-covers?" cry Jennie and Pollie, mindful of their work as Dorcas and her neighbours.
"I'll black everybody's boots," volunteers Harry. There is a general laugh at this, but Bob calls out that he needs Harry's help with the stair-carpets immediately.
So Betty has a houseful of volunteer helpers, and pretty difficult she finds it to manage them all. But she is blessed with a clear head, and, as every one is working for love, and really tries to do his or her best, a great deal of work is got through in the course of the day.
Clara comes out splendidly. "Master coming home? O miss, that
is news! Brighten up the house? I should think we would brighten it up, just as neat as a new pin all over."
What a topsy-turvy house it is all the rest of the day! Bob and Harry beating carpets in the back-yard as though their lives depended on it; Lucy perpetually polishing glass, and washing china. Jennie and Pollie busy with their needles; mother ironing in the kitchen; Clara sweeping, scrubbing, and black-leading; Betty all over the house, encouraging, directing, and doing a bit of everything by turns.
Bread and cheese for dinner, and a cup of tea at tea-time, taken in the stuffy little kitchen. Yet not a single grumble from any one--even from Bob, who
is a trifle particular about his meals, as a general rule!
How utterly tired out Betty is when at last she gets to bed! Tired out, but happier in her home than perhaps she has ever been before. Bustle, confusion, dust, hard work, yes; but brothers and sisters all helping each other, all working together, all eagerly looking forward to seeing dear father.
The same thing goes on all the next day, but now the confusion is fast changing into order, and when the following morning arrives--the morning of the eventful day that is to see father's return--the house is cleaner and fresher than Betty ever remembers to have seen it.
It is four o'clock in the afternoon. Bob, his hands in his pockets, is going from room to room, surveying his share in the work with great pride. Lucy is arranging a few cheap flowers in a glass, the children are all on tiptoe with excitement. Betty has gone to the hospital to fetch father home!
"There they are, mother. Quick, here's father!"
Father; crutches under his arms, one foot held away from the ground by a long sling passing over his shoulders; but father, for all that; his eyes shining with love, as his noisy boys and girls rush towards him, followed by Mrs. Langdale.
"Gently, gently, young folks, or you'll tumble father right over."
"Well, it's good to be at home again. Why, mother, how cosy everything looks. One needs to be away from home for a time, I suppose, just to find out how good it is!"
"It was all Betty's doing," cries Bob. "We all worked at the cleaning-up, but she started it."
Father sinks into the low couch. His leg is still very stiff and painful; but he smiles happily, and gazes all round with such a contented look in his kind eyes that even Mrs. Langdale is struck with it.
"Well, I declare, I do believe you were right after all. Your father does seem quite pleased with everything, and I thought he never noticed how the house looked at all!"