"Trouble? Not at all," said Nora. "She could do just as she likes here. We would give her Polly and let her roam. And on the farm she would find a number of things to interest her.""It would be an awfully good thing for her, I know," said Dean, vainly trying to suppress the eagerness in his tone, "and if you are really sure that it would not be too much of a burden I might write.""No burden at all, Mr. Wakeham," said Mrs. Gwynne. "If you will write and ask Mrs. Wakeham, and bring her with you when you return, we shall do what we can to make her visit a happy one, and indeed, it may do the dear child a great deal of good."Thus it came about that the little city child, delicate, fretted, spoiled, was installed in the household at Lakeside Farm for a visit which lengthened out far beyond its original limits. The days spent upon the farm were full of bliss to her, the only drawback to the perfect happiness of the little girl being the separation from her beloved fidus Achates, with whom she maintained an epistolary activity extraordinarily intimate and vivid. Upon this correspondence the Wakeham family came chiefly to depend for enlightenment as to the young lady's activities and state of health, and it came to be recognised as part of Larry's duty throughout the summer to carry a weekly bulletin regarding Elfie's health and manners to the Lake Shore summer home, where the Wakehams sought relief from the prostrating heat of the great city.
These week ends at the Lake Shore home were to Larry his sole and altogether delightful relief from the relentless drive of business that even throughout the hottest summer weather knew neither let nor pause.
It became custom that every Saturday forenoon Rowena's big car would call at the Rookery Building and carry off her father, if he chanced to be in town, and Larry to the Lake Shore home. An hour's swift run over the perfect macadam of the Lake Shore road that wound through park and boulevard, past splendid summer residences of Chicago financial magnates, through quiet little villages and by country farms, always with gleams of Michigan's blue-grey waters, and always with Michigan's exhilarating breezes in their faces, would bring them to the cool depths of Birchwood's shades and silences, where for a time the hustle and heat and roar of the big city would be as completely forgotten as if a thousand miles away.
It was early on a breathless afternoon late in July when from pavement and wall the quivering air smote the face as if blown from an opened furnace that Rowena drove her car down La Salle Street and pulled up at the Rookery Building resolved to carry off with her as a special treat "her men" for an evening at Birchwood.
"Come along, Larry, it is too hot to live in town today," she said as she passed through the outer office where the young man had his desk. "I am just going in to get father, so don't keep me waiting.""Miss Wakeham, why will you add to the burdens of the day by breezing thus in upon us and ****** us discontented with our lot.
I cannot possibly accept your invitation this afternoon.""What? Not to-day, with the thermometer at ninety-four? Nonsense!"said the young lady brusquely. "You look fit to drop.""It is quite useless," said Larry with a sigh. "You see we have a man in all the way from Colorado to get plans of a mine which is in process of reconstruction. These plans will take hours to finish.
The work is pressing, in short must be done to-day.""Now, look here, young man. All work in this office is pressing but none so pressing that it cannot pause at my command.""But this man is due to leave to-morrow."
"Oh, I decline to talk about it; it is much too hot. Just close up your desk," said the young lady, as she swept on to her father's office.
In a short time she returned, bearing that gentleman in triumph with her. "Not ready?" she said. "Really you are most exasperating, Larry.""You may as well throw up your hands, Larry. You'd better knock off for the day," said Mr. Wakeham. "It is really too hot to do anything else than surrender.""You see, it is like this, sir," said Larry. "It is that Colorado mine reconstruction business. Their manager, Dimock, is here. He must leave, he says, tomorrow morning. Mr. Scread thinks he should get these off as soon as possible. So it is necessary that I stick to it till we get it done.""How long will it take?" said Mr. Wakeham.
"I expect to finish to-night some time. I have already had a couple of hours with Dimock to-day. He has left me the data.""Well, I am very sorry, indeed," said Mr. Wakeham. "It is a great pity you cannot come with us, and you look rather fagged. Dimock could not delay, eh?""He says he has an appointment at Kansas City which he must keep.""Oh, it is perfect rubbish," exclaimed Rowena impatiently, "and we have a party on to-night. Your friend, Mr. Hugh Raeder, is to be out, and Professor Schaefer and a friend of his, and some perfectly charming girls.""But why tell me these things now, Miss Wakeham," said Larry, "when you know it is impossible for me to come?""You won't come?"
"I can't come."
"Come along then, father," she said, and with a stiff little bow she left Larry at his desk.
Before the car moved off Larry came hurrying out.
"Here is Elfie's letter," he said. "Perhaps Mrs. Wakeham would like to see it." Miss Wakeham was busy at the wheel and gave no sign of having heard or seen. So her father reached over and took the letter from him.
"Do you know," said Larry gravely, "I do not think it is quite so hot as it was. I almost fancy I feel a chill.""A chill?" said Mr. Wakeham anxiously. "What do you mean?"Miss Wakeham bit her lip, broke into a smile and then into a laugh.
"Oh, he's a clever thing, he is," she said. "I hope you may have a real good roast this afternoon.""I hope you will call next Saturday," said Larry earnestly. "It is sure to be hot.""You don't deserve it or anything else that is good.""Except your pity. Think what I am missing.""Get in out of the heat," she cried as the car slipped away.
