Across the Years | Page 3

together with Frank and his wife and son;
but Ella's train was late--so late that it came in a scant five minutes
ahead of the other one, and thus brought about a joyous greeting
between the reunited families on the station platform itself.
"Why, it's not so bad we were late, after all," cried Ella. "This is
fine--now we can all go together!"
"Jove! but we're a cheery sight!" exclaimed Ned, as he counted off on
his fingers the blooming faces of those about him. "There are ten of
us!"
"Only fancy what they'll say at the house when they catch their first
glimpse of us!" chuckled Frank. "The dear old souls! How Father's eyes
will shine and Mother's cap-strings bob! By the way, of course they
know we're coming to-day?"
There was a moment's silence; then Ella flushed. "Why! didn't--didn't
you tell them?" she stammered.
"I? Why, of course not!" cried Frank. "I supposed you were going to.
But maybe Ned-" He paused and turned questioning eyes on his
brother.
Ned shook his head. "Not I," he said.
"Why, then--then they don't know," cried Ella, aghast. "They don't
know a thing!"
"Never mind, come on," laughed Ned. "What difference does it make?"
"'What difference does it make'!" retorted Ella indignantly. "Ned
Bertram, do you suppose I'd take the risk of ten of us pouncing down
on those two poor dears like this by surprise? Certainly not!"
"But, Ella, they're expecting six of us tomorrow," remonstrated Frank.
"Very true. But that's not ten of us today."
"I know; but so far as the work is concerned, you girls always do the
most of that," cut in Ned.
"Work! It isn't the work," almost groaned Ella. "Don't you see, boys?
It's the excitement--'twouldn't do for them at all. We must fix it some

way. Come, let's go into the waiting-room and talk it up."
It was not until after considerable discussion that their plans were
finally made and their line of march decided upon. To advance in the
open and take the house by storm was clearly out of the question,
though Ned remarked that in all probability the dear old creatures
would be dozing before the fire, and would not discover their approach.
Still, it would be wiser to be on the safe side; and it was unanimously
voted that Frank should go ahead alone and reconnoiter, preparing the
way for the rest, who could wait, meanwhile, at the little hotel not far
from the house.
The short winter day had drawn almost to a close when Frank turned in
at the familiar gate of the Bertram homestead. His hand had not reached
the white knob of the bell, however, when the eager expectancy of his
face gave way to incredulous amazement; from within, clear and
distinct, had come the sound of a violin.
"Why, what--" he cried under his breath, and softly pushed open the
door.
The hall was almost dark, but the room beyond was a blaze of light,
with the curtains drawn, and apparently every lamp the house contained
trimmed and burning. He himself stood in the shadow, and his entrance
had been unnoticed, though almost the entire expanse of the room
before him was visible through the half-open doorway.
In the farther corner of the room a large evergreen tree, sparkling with
candles and tinsel stars, was hung with bags of pink and white tarletan
and festoons of puffy popcorn. Near it sat an old man playing the violin;
and his whole wiry self seemed to quiver with joy to the tune of his
merry "Money Musk." In the center of the room two gray-haired men
were dancing an old-time jig, bobbing, bowing, and twisting about in a
gleeful attempt to outdo each other. Watching them were three old
women and another old man, eating ice cream and contentedly
munching peppermints. And here, there, and everywhere was the
mistress of the house, Lydia Ann herself, cheeks flushed and
cap-strings flying, but plainly in her element and joyously content.
For a time the man by the hall door watched in silent amazement; then
with a low ejaculation he softly let himself out of the house, and
hurried back to the hotel.
"Well?" greeted half a dozen voices; and one added: "What did they

say?"
Frank shook his head and dropped into the nearest chair. "I--I didn't tell
them," he stammered faintly.
"Didn't tell them!" exclaimed Ella. "Why, Frank, what was the trouble?
Were they sick? Surely, they were not upset by just seeing you!"
Frank's eyes twinkled "Well, hardly!" he retorted. "They--they're
having a party."
"A party!" shrieked half a dozen voices.
"Yes; and a tree, and a dance, and ice cream, and pink peppermints,"
Frank enumerated in one breath.
There was a chorus of expostulation; then Ella's voice