Miss Theodosias Heartstrings | Page 8

out. Distinctly, a
misty little blur of white against the velvet background. Miss
Theodosia started a very little--did she need pinching to wake her?
For the space of a clock-tick the little celestial appeared to hesitate, as
though waiting for her star-steed to come within her hail. Then,
floatingly, not walking, it seemed to Miss Theodosia, the mist of blurry
white drew nearer. It came near to Miss Theodosia, and it was not the
nurse-angel in cap and shining halo. It was Stefana!
The child was in her nightgown. One look into her wide, unseeing eyes
was enough; Stefana was asleep. In a chattering little voice she was
talking to herself. It was like a soft wail of sound.
"I must get them back! Quick, before she sees; I must iron them over.
Perhaps if I starched them again--another coat of starch might hide the
smooches. She mustn't see the smooches! If Mother should lose the
chance--oh, I must get 'em back and starch 'em another coat! Mother
mustn't lose her! My thumbs ache so!"

Was she coming straight toward the door? No, a fortunate whiff of
breeze seemed to blow her aside like a little seed-puff, and she went
drifting by. She was apparently searching anxiously.
"I must find them! Quick, before she sees! Oh, there are the smooches.
I see some of the smooches! But I can't find the rest of them--"
Miss Theodosia sprang forward in the direction of the pathetic little
figure, but almost as quickly caught herself up. Sleepwalkers were not
to be awakened suddenly. What then was to be done?
"I must get her back to bed without letting her wake," thought Miss
Theodosia. A plan suggested itself. She caught of her large apron,
rolled it into a bulky mass, and swiftly followed the small nightgowned
figure. Her steps made no sound over the grass. It was but the work of
an instant to lay the roll of apron in Stefana's arms. Instantly, at the feel
of starched cloth in her hands, the tense little face relaxed.
"I've got 'em back!" Stefana muttered, and, as if from the relief of it, the
troubled sleep seemed to calm and quiet down into deep oblivion to all
troubles. To Miss Theodosia's dismay Stefana slid quietly to the ground
and dreamlessly slept. Here, indeed, was adventure! Even at twelve
years and Stefana small, the child was too heavy to carry home.
"I don't dare to wake her," Miss Theodosia cried aloud, but softly, as if
in fear of doing so.
"You needn't--hush! I'll carry her for you."
The voice seemed to materialize out of the gloom into something big
and high and unexpectedly close at hand that rightly should have
startled Miss Theodosia but failed to do so. Afterward, in the house
again, among her irons, she was startled.
"I was going by and saw her--you can tell a sleepwalker by the way one
walks. Glides. Now, when I lift her, gently support her head--that's it.
Forward, march!"

"This way," Miss Theodosia directed in a whisper, though he was
already moving this way. Shadow Man that he was, he stepped earthily,
with thuds of his feet on the grass. Miss Theodosia's footsteps were soft
echoes. So they came to the little House of Flaggs.
"There's a light in that inside room, and I can see a bed. I'll lay her
down, and you can go in afterward--and--er--smooth her out."
"Yes--yes, I'll wait out here," whispered Miss Theodosia with a curious
solemnity in her face. Rome, nor Paris, nor Anywhere had offered
adventure like this--not like this. Miss Theodosia had an odd feeling
that this, too, was a dream--and a John. Would they all wake up
together?
"Sound as a nut--never knew what hit her! But she wants straightening.
New work for me; I'm not used to putting kiddies to bed."
"Oh, I'm not either!" breathed Miss Theodosia, "but I might straighten
one. I don't suppose you--you kissed her thumbs? Of course not!" She
laughed softly. "But I shall."
Now it was the Shadow Man's turn to laugh with a funny, explosive
little effect as though he were not used to muffling his laughs,--as if
this playing Shadow Man were a new rôle.
"Why thumbs?" he whispered. "Why not lips, say, or eyes? I thought
women kissed kiddies' eyes. Hope I haven't made a mistake--" as if he
had some secret desire for women to kiss the eyes of little children. "If
you don't mind kissing 'em when you go in there--"
"I shall kiss her thumbs," Miss Theodosia said firmly. "They were
burned at the stake for me. I know how burned thumbs feel."
But the Shadow Man stubbornly persisted.
"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll go back now and kiss her thumbs, if
you'll kiss her eyes