Uncle William got to his feet—“Hev they come, Benjy?”
“Looks like it,” said the man. “If I know my own yacht—she’s just dropped anchor off the Island.”
Uncle William cast a quick glance at the glass roof overhead.
“You can’t see anything there,” said Bodet smiling. “Come on out.”
They went quickly from the house—out to the edge of the cliff. Beneath the cliff, close to the Jennie, a big white boat swung at anchor, and on the deck a man and woman stood looking up to the Island.
“She’s got it with her, Benjy!” said Uncle William. He leaned over the cliff. Little white garments in the woman’s arms fluttered softly.
The woman looked up and saw them and raised the child high in her arms, lifting it to them in the shining harbor light.
THEY were sitting about the fire-place in the big living-room, and a fire burned briskly for the cool September morning. In front of the fire, on a great rug, Wilhelmina Bodet Woodworth, fresh from her bath, gurgled and reached out cooing hands to the fire. Her language could not be understood—not even by the dusky Jimmu Yoshitomo, who came and stood in the doorway and looked in with unfathomable eyes. But the words were very pointed and sweet and quick and had little laughs and chuckles behind them—all about things she used to know.... By and by—when she had learned proper ones, she would forget the things she used to know—or remember them only in her dreams, or some day when she met a stranger in the street—and half stopped and went on—listening to the little bells that were ringing somewhere—far off.... She lunged toward the fire and fell afoul of her toes and laughed and seized them and gazed at them intently.
Uncle William, a hand on either knee—gazed in rapt content. “She’s about the littlest and the nicest—” he said, “I didn’t reckon she ’d be like that.”
He looked at Bodet for sympathy. Benjy smiled and swung the long glasses playfully toward the rug.... The person on the rug regarded them a minute—then she adjusted her muscles and made a little hitching motion toward the glasses—they were round and they glittered and went back and forth—and ought to be stopped.... She reached up a hand and laughed and toppled over—and looked up and saw Andy’s grin somewhere.... For a long minute she gazed back at it—then she went on hands and knees across the rug—flying from fate.