Unwilling to disappoint Annie despite the tragedy in Boston, Philo took the boys to Baltimore after Irene's departure.
Annie was thrilled to have everyone home. Her performance at Baltimore's Centennial fete was a great success, and the boys enjoyed the opportunity to meet President Grant.
When they finally settled in for a proper visit after the flurry of the Fourth of July, the family sat together in the parlor feeling as if all the intervening years had disappeared.
Setting aside her enduring ill opinion of Jane, Annie commiserated with Irene's unhappy situation.
"Give the child time," she sighed. "Most things heal with time."
Philo glanced at a portrait of Nelle which Annie had hung near his on the parlor wall, but quickly looked away.
"There is, however, something that will not heal for me," Annie ventured further. "I'm busy, that's true, but I miss my boys. It has broken my heart not to have them with me this year. Now Bessie has gone to Brazil to watch her grandchildren grow. Doctor Heskitt and Rose have passed away. Frank Patterson up and married the widow lady on the corner. Cook and I just rattle around in this big house now. What am I to do?"
"I'll tell you," Bart broke in. "You can come to Boston and keep house for us in Louisburg Square till we get out of Harvard. And Cook can come and fatten us up with some really good food! I'm tired of New England boiled dinners and fried quahogs!"
For the first time since his return from Paris, Philo perked up.
"An excellent idea!" he proclaimed. "Excellent! I have a couple living with me in Paris, Paul and Adrienne André. They came to me for refuge during the terrible time of the Paris Commune a few years ago and stayed on to take care of things for me. They can keep the house open in the Place Dauphine while I stay in Boston. You see, with Simon gone, I'll have to run Duncan Cargo from this side of the Atlantic. Maybe, Ardie, I can train you to take over when you get out of school. That's what you'd like, isn't it?"
Ardie slapped his knees. "Oh, Pa, that would be wonderful!"
So began a happy time for them all.
En route north, they stopped off in Philadelphia to marvel at the wonders of the International Centennial Exposition. The centerpiece building had been designed by the same architect who created the fabulous Crystal Palace for an earlier exposition in London.
Philo regaled them with tales of his visits to England and of having met Queen Victoria through his friendship with Benjamin Disraeli, her prime minister.
"Disraeli took me to her at Osborne on the Isle of Wight," he reported, "and when we sat down, the servants rolled in a magnificent tea service I myself had bought from a maharajah in India! I had given it to Disraeli on the occasion of his second ministry.
"Imagine Disraeli's chagrin! Noting my surprise, he was quick to say to the Queen, 'How gracious of you, Ma'am, to remember that it was Captain Duncan who gave me this tea set to present to you.' Ha! If you could have seen her face when he said that! The great lady had no idea what in the world he was talking about, but she smiled and accepted the compliment anyway. He gave me a wink. Later, he had a silver plaque inscribed with my name as the donor attached to the tray. The man is a consummate politician!"
At the time Philo told them this story, they were seated at an outdoor cafe near the exhibition halls. Just as he finished, a great stir occurred in the crowd when people fell back in surprise to make way as a remarkable contraption came wheeling out of the Scottish Pavilion.
Bart sprang to his feet.
"Hi ho!" he crowed. "That's what I came to see - the new cycle from Scotland with an experimental sprocket-chain drive! Now it will be possible to manufacture a bicycle with two wheels of equal size!"
 Shakily balanced on the small seat of the extraordinary vehicle, which promised to revolutionize personal transportation for the masses, sat a beautiful strawberry-blonde in a fashionable gray flannel riding habit.
Black high-button boots flashed from beneath her pleated skirt. Red silk roses decorated the jaunty gray straw covering her lustrous hair. She could have been no more than in her mid-teens.
Bart ran after her as she flew past, the machine wobbling out of control. A horse pulling a sightseeing carriage whinnied and reared as the bicycle bore down on it, tipped over, and crashed to the ground.
The girl fell opportunely into Bart's arms.
Breathless, she gazed into his eyes, and he into hers.
"I don't know what happened," she said. "I was rolling right along, and then....."
"Beth Heskitt!" Annie cried, lumbering toward them on the run. "I thought it was you! Honey, what are you doing here - and on that dangerous thing?"
Not the least embarrassed, Beth pulled away from Bart and straightened her jacket. Her eyes of periwinkle blue were bright and full of fun. She smiled at the concerned expression on Bart's face.
"Don't worry!" she grinned. "I'm not made of china. I won't break! But thank you anyway."
She turned to Annie. "Miss Rainbow! What a lovely surprise! I'm here because the gentleman in charge of the Scottish Pavilion is the grandson of a friend of my great-grandfather's. They went to medical school together in Edinburgh. I was asked to stand around inside, greeting visitors, and looking in general like a Scottish lassie dressed for a cycling tour, but I'm a Heskitt. That means I have to get my fingers into every pie in sight!"
Philo roared with laughter. "That's a funny-looking two-wheeled pie you rode out here!"
They all laughed together.
Beth noticed Philo then. "Is that Master Angel Hair? Oh, I'd know you anywhere from that portrait in the house on North Charles! You wouldn't remember me, of course. I was just four when you came home from the war. I'm fifteen, now."
Philo grasped her outstretched hands. "Of course I remember! I was so sorry to hear that Doctor Heskitt and your Great-grandmother Rose passed away."
She went to Annie and gave her a hug. "I don't know what we'd have done without Annie last year. She took over the house and played the hostess when Mother and I came down from Johnstown for the funerals. They died within two days of each other, you know. That's real love. And I'm sure they were listening in Heaven when Miss Rainbow sang at the service. I've never heard anything more beautiful in my life!"
Beth smiled at Ardie. "You're Ardie, aren't you? My, you haven't changed a bit. It seems every time we came from Pennsylvania for a summer visit, you boys were off fishing or away sailing in some regatta, and then you were at Harvard when we went to the funerals. I thought I'd never see you two!"
Bart balanced first on one foot and then on the other, waiting anxiously for recognition.
At last, she came to him.
"Don't tell me," she teased. "Let me guess!"
She stuck the tip of a finger between her lips and studied his face.
"I know you can't be Little Bart because, I swear, you're seven or eight feet tall!"
"I'm not that tall," he pouted. "I'm only six-foot-one!"
"Only?" she declared. "Why, I'm five-foot-one! You'd make three of me!"
"Aw, I wouldn't, really," he countered with an embarrassed smile. "Say, that's some machine! Did you know the Scots invented the bicycle? I surely do admire you for being brave enough even to get on it."
"It was nothing!" she commented airily with a saucy toss of her pretty head. "Why don't you pick it up and pedal it back to the pavilion for me?"
"Oh, could I? I'd like to do that!"
Bart set the bicycle upright.
"My goodness!" he exclaimed. "The sprocket chain broke! The braking mechanism's gone out, too. That's why you lost control. I s'pose that's why it's considered experimental. They haven't perfected it yet."
His eyes widened at the dawn of a thought. His face paled. He looked at her with awe. "If that horse and buggy hadn't been there, you wouldn't have been able to stop. You'd have rolled on down the hill! You really might have been killed!"
She shivered. "Forget the horse and buggy! If you hadn't been there to catch me...."
"Bart," Ardie interjected, "you saved Beth's life!"
Together with Philo, the brothers carried the cycle back to the Scottish Pavilion.
When they disappeared inside, Beth turned to Annie. "You know, Miss Rainbow, Bart used to be my hero! I often wished I could marry him when I grew up! Wasn't that foolish?"
Annie smiled sagely. "Foolish? No, honey, wishes surprise you sometimes by coming true."
|