“How I wish Eleanor were here! I do miss her so!
“I’ll tip-toe in to my lesson with this child in my arms, and put her carefully in the big rocking chair, so as to have her near if she cries. Of course, I’m only pretending she’s a tiny young thing―because I didn’t bring my baby infant doll with me, and this is only Angie. She’s really almost three years old; but my, she certainly does love to be ‛babied’―and I’d certainly get very lonesome if I didn’t do it―with Mother and Father so far away―and Billy in camp!”
[Illustration: The big tears rolled down]
“Come, Mary Frances,” she said. “I feel like shaking you. When you promised Father so faithfully to be a woman, and your Grandma is such a darling!―Suppose you read Mother’s last letter over:
_Only twenty times has Mother read over your sweet letter. It was so dear, and brave. I am much better than I was―thanks to such a loving family―and the lovely “aps-mos-spere” here, as you used to say when you were little._
_What a beautiful country this is―your “Fatherland” and mine. I want you to see some day the lovely view I am now looking upon: mountains rising high and peeping over this lovely stretch of country to look into the Pacific Ocean, which sparkles like that ir-i-des-cent feather in your dear Grandma’s bonnet._
[Illustration: Read Mother’s last letter]
_Father is calling me to come for a ride, and I must drop a line to my Billy Boy―who is a good Scout, too._
_Can you feel this kiss and this hug? I know you can―for what are miles to us whose love for each other flies through space?_
_P.S.―Thank you so much for the picture of Jubey._
[Illustration: With Angie asleep in her arms]
“My, I feel better,” said Mary Frances, drying her tears. “But if it weren’t for my sewing lessons, even with Grandma’s help, I’d not be a Scout. Billy is a good Scout:―but now,―for the lesson,” and she went to the sewing-room very softly, with Angie asleep in her arms.
“Hee-ha!” she heard through the door, which was a very tiny way open, “that’s the time!”
She thought it was the voice of Silver Thimble.
“I don’t care,” answered a new voice. “It’s too much, to have to clean them all at once.”
“Oh, there are only two more. Come, I’m ready―it is really excellent practice for a soldier!”