The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation by Annie Fellows Johnston

IF the sun had been shining next morning, it would have been easier for / Lloyd to keep her resolution, and face the family bravely at breakfast. / But the rain was pouring against the windows; a slow, monotonous rain / that ran in little rivers over the lawn, melting the snow, and turning / the white landscape into a dreary scene of mud and bare branches.

Twice on the way down-stairs she paused, thinking that she could not / possibly sit through the meal without crying, and that it would be / better to go back and breakfast alone in her room than to be a damper on / the spirits of the family. Even so slight a thing as the tone of / sympathy in her grandfather's "good morning" made the tears spring to / her eyes, but she winked them back, and answered almost cheerfully his / question as to how she felt.

"Oh, just like the weathah, grandfathah. All gray and drippy; but I'll / clean up aftah awhile."

She could not smile as she said it, but the effort she made to be / cheerful made the next attempt easier, and presently she acknowledged to / herself that Mary was right. It did help, to swallow one's sobs.

After breakfast she stood at the window, watching her father drive away / to the station in the rain. As the carriage disappeared and there was / nothing more to watch, she wondered dully how she could spend the long / morning.

"Some one wants you at the telephone, Lloyd," called the Colonel, on his / way to his den.

"Oh, good! I hope it is Kitty," she exclaimed, anticipating a long visit / over the wire.

But it was Malcolm MacIntyre who had rung her up, to bid her good-bye. / He and Keith were about to start home. They had intended to go up to / Locust, he told her, for a short call before train time, but it was / raining too hard. Would she please make their adieus to her mother and / the rest of the family. He had heard that she was not going back to / school. Was it true? She was in luck. No? She was disappointed? Well, / that was too bad. He was awfully sorry. But she mustn't worry over / missing a few months of school. It wouldn't amount to much in the long / run. For his part, if he were a girl and didn't have to fit himself for / a profession, he would be glad to have such a postscript added to his / Christmas vacation. He'd noticed that usually the postscript to a girl's / letter had more in it than the letter itself. Possibly it would be that / way with her vacation. He hoped so.

Although it was in the most cordial tone that he expressed his regret at / her disappointment, and bade Princess Winsome good-bye until the "good / old summer-time," it was with a vague feeling of disappointment that / Lloyd hung up the receiver and turned away from the telephone.

"He doesn't undahstand at all!" she thought. "He hasn't the faintest / idea how much it means to me to give up school. He thinks that, because / I'm a girl, I haven't any ambition, and that it doesn't hurt me as it / would him. Maybe it wouldn't have sounded quite the same if I could have / seen him say it, but ovah the telephone, somehow -- although he was mighty / nice and polite -- it sounded sawt of patronizing."

She went into the library to deliver Malcolm's farewell messages to her / mother. "He seems so much moah grown up this time than he evah has / befoah," she added. "I don't like him half as much that way as the way / he used to be."

Mrs. Sherman was busy about the house all morning, so Lloyd found / entertainment following her from room to room, as she inspected the / linen closet, superintended the weekly cleaning of the pantry, and / rearranged some of the library shelves to make room for the Christmas / books. But in the afternoon she had a number of letters to write, / acknowledging the gifts which had been sent her by distant friends, and / Lloyd was left to her own amusement.

The doctor did not want her to read long at a time. The rain was pouring / too hard for her to venture out-of-doors, and about the middle of the / afternoon the silence and loneliness of the big house seemed more than / she could endure.

"I could scream, I'm so nervous and ti'ahed of being by myself," she / exclaimed. "If just a piece of a day is so hah'd to drag through as this / has been, how can I stand all the rest of the wintah?"

She was counting up the weeks ahead of her on the big library calendar, / when, through the window, she caught sight of Rob coming toward the / house. The rain was running in streams from the bottom of his / mackintosh, and from a huge umbrella that spread over him like a tent. / It was an enormous advertising umbrella, taken from one of the delivery / wagons at the store. One of the boys had dared him to carry it. / "_Groceries, Dry Goods, Boots and_" appeared in black letters on the / yellow side turned toward Lloyd. "_Shoes. Jayne's Emporium_," she / called, supplying the rest of the familiar advertisement from memory.

"What on earth are you doing with that wagon-top ovah you?" she asked / from the front door, where she stood watching his approach. He was / striding along whistling as cheerily as if it were a midsummer day. He / looked up and smiled in response to her call, and twirled the umbrella / till the rain-drops flew in every direction in a fine spray. Lloyd felt / as if the sun had suddenly come out from behind the clouds.

"I've come to finish my Christmas hunt," he said, as he stepped up on / the porch and shook himself like a great water-spaniel.

"Oh," cried Lloyd, "I intended to ask Betty befoah she went away where / she had hidden yoah present, and she left next mawning so early that I / was still asleep. Maybe mothah knows."

But Mrs. Sherman, busy with her letters, shook her head. "I haven't the / faintest idea," she answered. "But I remember she said something about / Rob's being the hardest one of all to find, so you'll probably be kept / busy the rest of the day. Don't you children bother either Mom Beck or / Cindy to help you hunt," she called after them. "They have all they can / attend to to-day."