  The tall, fine-looking man who stood on the front porch lifted his hat as Mrs. Gray opened the door. “I’m Mr. Morrison,” he said, and then he hastened to inquire: “How is my little girl today?” The housekeeper’s face brightened. “Oh, I’m so glad that you have come,” she said. “Geraldine was asking for you but a moment ago. She is much better, but I am not sure that she is strong enough to see you unless I first tell her that you are here. Sudden joy may be as great a shock as sudden sorrow.” But, as they ascended the stairs and went quietly down the corridor, they heard the girl calling, “Daddy! Oh, I know it’s you, Daddy. I’ve been expecting you all day long.” When the tender greeting was over, with shining eyes the girl looked at him as she said, “I’m going to get well right away now, I know. I’ve been so lonesome for you, Dad.” Turning toward the little old lady, she added lovingly: “Mrs. Gray is my make-believe grandmother, and you can’t guess how good she has been to me.” Then suddenly thinking of something, she smilingly declared: “Why, that makes Mrs. Gray your make-believe mother, doesn’t it, Dad?” The man, because of his great anxiety about his daughter, had scarcely noticed the old lady. He now turned and looked at her, intending to thank her for her kindness to his little girl. To his surprise tears were rolling unheeded down the wrinkled cheeks, although, in the sweet face, there was an expression of radiant joy. Then Mrs. Gray held out her arms to the amazed man and said in a voice that trembled with emotion, “Alfred, my boy, don’t you know me?” A few moments later when the Colonel entered the room he smiled around at the happy group. “Well, Mrs. Gray,” he said after he had exchanged greetings with the newcomer, “we don’t have to keep our secret any longer, do we?” “Oh, Colonel Wainright,” Geraldine exclaimed, “have you known all the time that Mrs. Gray was my real grandmother?” “Yes, lassie, but she did not want me to tell you. She wished first of all to win your love.” A door banged below and Alfred leaped up the stairs two steps at a time, Susan having told him that his father had arrived. He, too, was amazed to learn that Mrs. Gray was their grandmother. “I’m bully glad,” the lad exclaimed, as he kissed the beaming old lady. Then he added: “Of course I knew that Dad ran away from home when he was sixteen and that he had never since seen his parents, but you thought they were dead, didn’t you, Dad?” His father nodded. “I’ve been alone for ten years,” Mrs. Gray told them, “and during that time I’ve been hunting for my boy.” “All’s well that ends well!” Alfred said, and his father added: “Just as soon as Geraldine is able to travel, we must return to our home in Dorchester.” “Oh, Dad!” the girl protested, “I do wish we might stay in the country forever.” * * * * * * * * The next day, at Mrs. Gray’s suggestion, her son took her for a drive in the light buggy. Although the Colonel had two automobiles, the little old lady preferred the old-fashioned way of traveling. They drove along Willowbend Road, where the last bits of snow were rapidly disappearing and where reddish green buds were to be seen on the drooping trees that gave the country road its name. Mrs. Gray lifted a beaming face and smiled up at her long lost son from under her quaint Quaker-like bonnet. “You haven’t asked me, Alfred, why my name is Gray?” “No,” he acknowledged, “I supposed that you would tell me in time if you had married again.” She shook her head. “No, I never did. Because I always dressed in grey, friends began to call me that, and when I came here once more searching for some trace of you, I thought I would use that name; and I am glad that I did, for by so doing I won the love of my granddaughter. She might otherwise have cared merely from a sense of duty.” Then, as they turned in between two stone gate posts, the man said: “How strange it seems to be, coming back to our old home. I thought it had been sold for taxes long ago.” “It was nearly sold,” Mrs. Gray replied, “but I heard of it in time to pay the back taxes and keep it. At first I thought, when I couldn’t find you, that I did not care to own it, for every corner and tree reminded me of you when you were a boy, but now I am so glad that I have kept our old home. It is rather dilapidated,” she added brightly, “but in a week or so we can have it all in readiness before we tell the children a word about it. Then, when Geraldine is strong enough to be moved, we will bring her over here.” “How pleased she will be,” Mr. Morrison declared. “I will go to Dorchester tomorrow and see about selling our other place and have the furniture sent down here.” “I thought we’d let Alfred have the room that was yours when you were a boy,” Mrs. Gray continued, “and that sunny bay window room which overlooks the garden is the one I have planned for Geraldine.” “Mother,” the smiling man protested, “you know how completely I have been spoiling our girl. You aren’t going to do the same thing, are you?” The little old lady shook her head. “Geraldine is a changed lassie. She won’t spoil now.” “And it’s all due to your loving influence, I am sure,” Mr. Morrison declared. There were twinkles in the eyes that looked up at him. “I can’t take all of the credit,” Mrs. Gray replied. “I think someone else had even more to do with the change in Geraldine than I have had.” She was thinking of Jack Lee, but at that time she did not care to tell her son about him. The old house was one of those charming places, pillared in front, with wide halls and large, many windowed rooms that could easily be transformed into just the kind of a home that Geraldine liked best. Busy days followed for Mrs. Gray and her son. Then, three weeks later, Doctor Carson announced that Geraldine was strong enough to be moved. So well had the secret been kept that the lassie supposed that they were going to Dorchester. |
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