Christian fiction; Families -- Fiction; Love stories
The way out to Glenside seemed very short now, watching as they did for
each landmark. The children were as eager to get back as they had been
to leave, and Star snuggled in between Harley's feet, held his head
high, and smiled benevolently on everybody, as if he knew he was going
home and was glad. They began to wonder about the chickens, and if the
garden was all dried up, and whether the doves were all right. There
was an undertone of sadness and suppressed excitement, for it was in
the minds of all the Hollisters that the time in the old barn must of
necessity be growing brief. The fall would soon be upon them, and a
need for warmth. They must go hunting for a house at once. And yet
they all wanted this one day of delight before they faced that question.
At last they reached the final curve and could see the tall old tree in
the distance, and the clump of willows knee-deep in the brook. By
common consent they all grew silent, watching for the first glimpse of
the dear old barn.
Then they came around the curve, and there it was! But what was the
matter?
Nobody spoke. It seemed as if they could not get their breath.
Shirley rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Mrs. Hollister gave a
startled look from her daughter to Graham and back to the barn again.
Elizabeth and Carol were utterly silent, grasping each other's hands in
violent ecstasy. The boys murmured inarticulately, of which the only
audible words were: "Good night! Some class!" Doris looked for a long
second, puckered her lips as if she were going to cry, and inquired
pitifully: "I yant my dear barn house home! I yant to doh home!" and
Star uttered a sharp, bewildered bark and bounded from the car as if
this were something he ought to attend to.
But before anybody could say anything more, Graham brought out the long
white envelope and handed it to Shirley.
"Before you get out and go in I just want to say a word," he began.
"Father and I both want Shirley to have the old barn for her very own,
to do with as she pleases. This envelope contains the deed for the
property made out in her name. We have tried to put it in thorough
repair before handing it over to her, and if there is anything more she
can think of that it needs we'll do that too. And now, welcome home to
the old barn! Mother, may I help you out?"
"But there isn't any barn any more," burst forth the irrepressible
Elizabeth. "The barn's gone! It's just a house!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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