The Noise of the World by Adriana Spadoni

As she stepped from the train into the roar of the city, Anne straightened her shoulders and smiled:

"Perhaps I'll get to love the racket as much as Belle does."

She let herself into the flat and went noiselessly up the stairs to the hall. In the front room her father was talking to Rogie. She could not catch the words but she heard the baby's crow of delight and gripped the balustrade to keep from surprising the old man too suddenly.

The kitchen was empty but Hilda was on the porch picking dead leaves from a geranium. The kettle was boiling and a bottle of malted milk stood beside the inevitable wad of crochet on the table. Very softly Anne closed the door and waited. In another moment the kettle boiled over and Hilda turned. At the sight of Anne, she stepped back, stared, and then came with a little rush and took Anne in her arms. When she stood away at last, her eyes were full of happy tears, but she said gayly:

"I believe you just love to startle people nearly out of their skins. Well, you certainly did give me a turn. I suppose it was the dog that howled all night, but when I saw you there -- for a minute -- I almost thought -- -- "

"It was my ghost. Moms Mitchell! You are superstitious."

"No, I'm not. Not a bit. I never held with those old sayings but it did give me a start. " She still held Anne's hand and stroked it, reluctant to relinquish the comfort of reality.

"Do I look like a ghost?"

"You certainly do not. My, but you're a different girl altogether. Papa will be surprised."

Anne laughed. "If my appearance has the same effect on him as it had on you, you'd better prepare him. Did he hear the dog too?"

"Go on with you. I don't believe those things. No, I don't think he did. Papa sleeps fine now. He's better a lot too. He got down onto the landing yesterday and sat in the sun for an hour."

"Papa! Got down those stairs to the landing! He must be improved."

"He is," Hilda said with subdued pride. "Papa's changed in the last two months, Annie. He's different -- in a great many ways. He's more like he was -- at first -- before you children were born. You won't know papa in some ways."

"Hardly, if he's like he was before I was born. Perhaps we'll have to be introduced."

Hilda smiled, but Anne saw under the amusement a kind of glad possession and knew that a new link had been forged between her father and mother. For an instant, loneliness touched her and she wondered what these months had done to Roger. She had changed. Her mother and father had changed. Had Roger changed too?

"I'm dying to see Rogie. Shall I go in or do you want to tell papa first?"

"I'll just give him a hint. You wait here. He always has his milk in the kitchen and I usually have tea with him. Good gracious, I forgot all about the tea."

"I'll make it. You run along and hint. If I don't see Rogie in a minute I'll be howling like that dog myself."

As she made the tea Anne's hands shook with excitement. It was all so strange, filled with a vibrant livingness it had never had before. In a few moments, she heard them coming along the hall, the tap of her father's canes, his shuffling step, Hilda's gleeful laugh, as they stopped just outside the kitchen door.

"No, I'm not joking, papa, we've got company to tea. I can't help it if you didn't hear them come. No, it's not Charlotte and I'm not going to tell you who it is."