"Walk again!" Amazement, consternation showed in the minister"s face, and his eyes also sought the useless little feet on their cushion. "Why, child," he whispered, all the pity and sympathy of his great heart throbbing in his voice, "are _you_ lame?"
It seemed incredible, and yet he recalled now that all the while he had sat there listening to her chatter, those gay slippers had not once moved.
"Yes," Peace answered simply, surprised at his question. "Didn"t you know that before?"
He shook his head.
"I"ll have to live in chairs all my life," she explained. "They _said_ maybe after a time I could have crutches, but it"s my back that"s hurt and crutches won"t be much good to me, I guess. I _clum_ a roof and fell--oh, months and months ago."
Briefly she recounted the unlucky adventure and the sad, weary days that had followed, while the preacher listened spell-bound,--shocked at the sorrowful tale.
When she had finished, his quivering lips whispered tenderly, "Poor little girl!" and two great tears stole down his rugged cheeks.
Peace was deeply touched at this unusual display of sympathy, and laying her thin little hand on his knee, she said softly, "I love you." There was a pause. Then before Dr. Shumway could think of any appropriate words in which to voice his turbulent thoughts, the crippled girl abruptly exclaimed, "Why, do you know, you"ve got eyes like my cat!"
The reverend gentleman fairly bounced from his chair in his astonishment. "Eyes like your c--cat!" he stuttered.
"Yes," Peace calmly answered. "One brown and one blue. I"ve been watching you ever since you came in, trying to make out why you looked so queer, and now I know,--it"s your eyes. Does it feel any different having two colors instead of one?"
"N--o," he managed to reply, still staring with fascinated eyes at the child in the chair opposite.
"Well, I should think it would," she began, but at that moment there was a brisk step on the wide veranda, the front door opened and Mrs.
Campbell entered.
Dr. Shumway rose to meet her, and Peace"s interview with the new pastor of South Avenue Church was at an end.
But the face of the small cripple haunted the minister, her pathetic story lingered in his mind, and he found himself constantly thinking of the long, weary years of helpless waiting stretching out before her.
"O, it can"t be," he protested over and over again. "She was never meant for a life like that! Activity is written all over her. She is right when she says she can"t keep quiet. What wonderful good such energy could accomplish if trained in the right direction! I wonder if d.i.c.kson--I believe I will write him. No, it would be better for him to see her first without having heard anything about the case. How can we bring it to pa.s.s?"
Straightway he began to plan how he might carry out a certain scheme which was gradually taking shape in his brain, until at length a practicable idea at last presented itself and he broached the subject to the other members of his household.
They were seated at the dinner table one night when he casually observed to his two youngest daughters, "Girls, what do you think of a Christmas party at the parsonage this year? Can we manage one?"
"A Christmas party!" gasped both girls in dismay.
Even his sister Anne stared at him aghast.
"Well, why not?" he inquired, when no one ventured an explanation of the family"s evident consternation.
"I don"t know how to entertain," wailed Pansy. "I"m too clumsy."
"We are hardly settled here," ventured sister Anne deprecatingly.
"Keturah is coming home for Christmas," whispered Penelope.
"So are d.i.c.k and Carrie," said the preacher briskly. "We all will be together once again and I want my whole family to meet the young folks of my new flock. What if we aren"t in apple-pie order? We"ll be less so by the time the party is over, I"ll wager. As for Kitty,--I think we better plan for our Christmas party."
"That settles it," whispered Pansy to the youngest sister, as her father began to discuss some household problem with his sister. "But I"ll bet he"s got some pet scheme up his sleeve. His party isn"t just to introduce us,--you see."
Penelope was shrewd in her observations and knew her father like a book, but she did not guess his secret, nor was she particularly curious this time. She did not want a Christmas party at the parsonage. It meant so much work and clutter. Besides, it was so much nicer to have just a little family gathering, such as they were accustomed to each year.
There would be Kitty and Ed, Carrie and Phil, and d.i.c.k.--d.i.c.kson was still unmarried.--That would make five extra in the little family, and five people were a plenty to plan for, without having a party. But then, what was the use of objecting? Her father had said party, and a party there would be. The only thing to do was to make the best of it and plan the most unique program the brains of the whole household could devise.
So Aunt Anne, Penelope and Pansy set to work.
True to his convictions, Dr. Shumway wrote nothing of his plans to his son, nor did he once mention his hopes to the distracted Campbell family, although he had skilfully managed that his son"s professional reputation should reach the ears of them all. To be doubly sure that his pet scheme should not fail, he gave Peace a personal invitation to attend his Christmas party, and made several visits to the Campbell home apparently to discuss his plans with members of that household, while in reality his object was to rouse the invalid"s curiosity and interest so she would be sure to join the merrymakers at the parsonage on that night of nights. Then d.i.c.kson could not fail to meet her and their acquaintance would come about naturally. He could not feel that Dr.
Coates and the specialists had really found the seat of the trouble yet, but d.i.c.kson would know if there was any hope for the little sufferer. d.i.c.kson,--stalwart, genial, gentle d.i.c.kson,--his boy,--his boy would know.
So it was with great eagerness that he looked forward to the Christmas party, for Peace had solemnly promised to be there in her wheel-chair, and it was hard to refrain from telling the whole story to his boy before the time was ripe.
But when at last the night arrived, Peace was not among the guests who thronged the gayly decorated parsonage. The old-time pain had come back, and she lay white and spent upon her bed in the Flag Room, watching with anguish in her heart while the other sisters made ready for the festivities. They had demurred at leaving her. It seemed so selfish to go and enjoy themselves when she must stay behind and suffer, but she had insisted.
"Because I can"t go to the _pastorage_ myself isn"t any reason why you should stick at home, too," she told them. "Besides, I want to know all about it, and it takes the whole family to see _everything_."
"What in the world do you mean?" they chorused.
And she explained, "Well, Gail remembers the speeches and what folks say just to each other. Faith hears only the music. Hope sees the pretty things folks wear. Cherry tells what they had to eat, and Allee fills up the c.h.i.n.ks."
They laughed merrily at the small invalid"s powers of discernment, and were finally persuaded to attend the party which was barred to her. So they donned their daintiest dresses, robbed the greenhouse for their adornment, kissed the little sister fondly and hurried away into the night. Peace listened to the sound of their footsteps crunching through the hard-packed snow, until the last echo died away. Then turning her face to the wall, she gave way to a flood of bitter tears.
"Why, darling," cried the watchful Mrs. Campbell, kneeling beside the sobbing child and striving to soothe and comfort her, "what is the matter? Did you want to go so badly?"
"No, no, it ain"t that," poor Peace hiccoughed, burying her head on the grandmotherly shoulder. "But I thought I was "most well, and now the hurt has begun again. I ain"t crying "cause the girls have gone, truly.
It"s just that dreadful ache in my back. O, Grandma, am I going to be like my Lilac Lady after all? She had well days when she could read and sew; and then there were times when the pain was so bad that she couldn"t bear to see folks at all. I don"t want to die, but oh, Grandma, how can I stand that awful ache?"
"O G.o.d," prayed the woman"s heart, torn with agony at the sight of her darling"s suffering, "help us to make it easier for her."
And as if in answer to her pet.i.tion, there was a step on the stair, and a big, stalwart, fur-coated figure stood unannounced in the doorway.
Mrs. Campbell rose hurriedly to her feet and confronted the stranger.
What right had he in her house? How came he there?
He smiled rea.s.suringly at her look of alarm, and something in his boyish face made Peace exclaim, "You look like Pansy Shumway, though you"re not so fat and homely."
At that, he laughed outright. "It"s because I am her brother, I expect,"
he answered simply.
"O, are you Dr. d.i.c.k?" she cried eagerly.
"Yes," he replied. "They told me you could not come to our party, so I have brought the party to you,--a bit of it, at least."
Fishing into the depths of his great pockets, he brought forth a marvelous array of cakes, candies, nuts and pop-corn, finally producing what looked to be a scarlet carnation in a tiny plantpot of rich loam, but upon investigation Peace found that her little nosegay was merely a flower thrust into a mound of chocolate ice-cream; and her delight made her forget her pain for a moment.
"You"re a reg"lar Santy Claus," she giggled. "Did you come down the chimbley? I never heard the door bell."
"O, I met Prexy on the steps and he told me where to find you, so I came right up without further invitation." He did not add that for more than an hour he had been closeted with Dr. Campbell in the parsonage study, where the anxious President had sought him to learn if there could be any hope for their little Peace.
"I s"pose the door is a safer way of getting into houses than falling down chimbleys would be," said the girl, pleased with her own fancies.
"But it would have seemed a little realer if you had tumbled out of the fireplace. Where is your pack, and what have you brought for me?"
"What would you like best?" he parried, studying the drawn face among the pillows.