Treasures of the Snow (23 page)

There was also a note from Madame Givet giving the exact time of their arrival, and a picture from Dani called, “Me Coming Home in the Train.”

Just for a few minutes Grandmother began to cry —the shaky little cry of a very weak old woman— but she quickly wiped away her tears and pretended to become a very strong old woman, because there was such a lot to be done.

“Go over to the shed and give that letter to Monsieur Burnier, Lucien,” she said firmly, “and then come back here and help me right away. There’s a lot to be done—beds to air, cakes to cook, and the furniture to be rubbed up. We must have everything looking its best for the children.”

Papa, on receiving the news, said, “Oh!” and scratched his head. Then for the first time in his life he upset the milk pail, and shortly afterward disappeared into the forest and didn’t come back for a long time.

The next day dawned clear and beautiful. There was no school. Lucien was up at daybreak picking flowers. He arranged them in a bowl on the veranda table and then set out for the station, walking slowly because there was plenty of time and plenty to think about. Grandmother, Papa, and Klaus had gone in the mule cart.

It was such a lovely spring morning, not unlike the day just over a year ago when Dani had fallen, thought Lucien. What a dark day that had been. The memory of it spoiled his happy thoughts. It had all been his fault they had ever had to go away, and perhaps after all they wouldn’t be very pleased to see him. Annette had said Dani was well, but Lucien could hardly believe it.

He reached the station feeling very nervous, and stood away from the others, with his hands in his pockets, because he suddenly felt a little afraid of meeting them, and wished he hadn’t come.

Papa kept his eyes fixed on the far point down the valley where the train would appear between the mountains, and Grandmother struggled with Klaus, who seemed to want to set off down the line and meet the train on her own.

“It’s coming,” cried Papa.

Lucien suddenly felt shier than ever.

When it came, Annette and Dani were at the window, rosy with excitement and longing to get out.

Dani gave one glance at the well-loved faces that had come to welcome him, and in that glance he noticed Lucien standing apart. For an instant he wondered why. His loving, happy little heart wanted to gather everyone together about him, and he jumped off the train and ran straight to Lucien.

“Look, Lucien,” he shouted, “I can walk! The doctor you found made me better, and I can run just as though I never fell over the ravine. Look, Grandmother! Look, Papa! I’m running without my crutches! And look, Klaus, here’s your kitten. Isn’t he big, Grandmother? Nearly as big as Klaus!”

Klaus and the kitten simply hated each other, and snarled and scratched and swore dreadfully. Dani and Grandmother struggled to keep them apart, everyone laughed, the train rattled off, and Annette clung to her father as though she would never let go of him again.

Only Lucien turned away, because he found there were tears in his eyes. He had been honored above everybody. The wrong he had done had been forgiven and forgotten forever. Dani could walk as if he had never fallen.

Spring had come. The winter was over and gone. With the flowers appearing and the birds singing again, joy had returned to their hearts.