Across the YearsPorter, Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman)
General
Across the Years
Porter, Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman)
Fiction; Short stories
At last they were all opened, and there remained not one little red bow
to untie. On the table, in all their pristine glory, lay the presents,
and half-buried in bits of paper and red ribbon sat the amazed, but
blissfully happy, little old man and little old woman. Lydia Ann's lips
parted, but the trembling words of thanks froze on her tongue--her eyes
had fallen on a small pink peppermint on the floor.
"No, no, we can't take 'em," she cried agitatedly. "We hadn't ought to.
We was wicked and ongrateful, and last night we--we--" She paused
helplessly, her eyes on her husband's face. "Samuel, you--you tell," she
faltered.
Samuel cleared his throat.
"Well, ye see, we--yes, last night, we--we--" He could say no more.
"We--we had a party to--to make up for things," blurted out Lydia Ann.
"And so ye see we--we hadn't ought ter take these--all these!"
Frank winced. His face grew a little white as he threw a quick glance
into his sister's eyes; but his voice, when he spoke, was clear and
strong from sheer force of will.
"A party? Good! I'm glad of it. Did you enjoy it?" he asked.
Samuel's jaw dropped. Lydia Ann stared speechlessly. This cordial
approval of their folly was more incomprehensible than had been the
failure to relegate them to naps and knitting earlier in the afternoon.
"And you've got another party to-night, too; haven't you?" went on Frank
smoothly. "As for those things there"--he waved his hand toward the
table--"of course you'll take them. Why, we picked them out on purpose
for you,--every single one of them,--and only think how we'd feel if you
didn't take them! Don't you--like them?"
"'Like them'!" cried Lydia Ann, and at the stifled sob in her voice
three men and three women caught their breath sharply and tried to
swallow the lumps in their throats. "We--we just love them!"
No one spoke. The grandchildren stared silently, a little awed. Ella,
Frank, and Ned stirred restlessly and looked anywhere but at each other.
Lydia Ann flushed, then paled. "Of course, if--if you picked 'em
out 'specially for us--" she began hesitatingly, her eyes anxiously
scanning the perturbed faces of her children.
"We did--especially," came the prompt reply.
Lydia Ann's gaze drifted to the table and lingered upon the clock, the
tie, and the bottle of perfume. "'Specially for us," she murmured
softly. Then her face suddenly cleared. "Why, then we'll have to take
them, won't we?" she cried, her voice tremulous with ecstasy. "We'll
just have to--whether we ought to or not!"
"You certainly will!" declared Frank. And this time he did not even try
to hide the shake in his voice.
"Oh!" breathed Lydia Ann blissfully. "Samuel, I--I think I'll take a
fig, please!"
Jupiter Ann
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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