They had passed through the tunnel and
crossed the beautiful Potomac Park and the shining river. Washington
Monument, like a finger pointing skyward, was fading in the distance.
"What amuses you, Pat?" repeated his aunt.
"Can't help grinning like a possum," answered Pat, with a chuckle.
"Every mile is taking us nearer Anne. How she'll jump and squeal
'oo-ee'--when she sees us! And--look here, Aunt Sarah--" he glanced
cautiously around to be sure that he was not observed, then opened his
travelling-bag and displayed a doll's dress--blue silk with frills and
lace ruffles. "I bought it in an F Street shop yesterday--for
Honey-Sweet, you know," he explained. "Gee! It'll tickle Anne for me to
give that doll a present. She'll--" he whistled a bar of ragtime.
Miss Drayton laughed heartily. The gift set aside so completely the
lapse of time that she could fancy she saw Anne running to meet them,
her tawny hair flying in the wind and Honey-Sweet clasped in her arms.
According to its habit, the Southern train was behind time. Instead of
early afternoon, it was twilight when Miss Drayton and Pat reached their
station. Dusk was deepening into drizzling night when their cab set them
down at the gate of the 'Home.
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