Across the Years, by Eleanor H. Porter by The Years (Pg) Across

Author:The Years (Pg) Across [Across, The Years]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Bridge Across the Years

John was expected on the five o’clock stage. Mrs. John had been there three days now, and John’s father and mother were almost packed up--so Mrs. John said. The auction would be to-morrow at nine o’clock, and with John there to see that things “hustled”--which last was really unnecessary to mention, for John’s very presence meant “hustle”--with John there, then, the whole thing ought to be over by one o’clock, and they off in season to ’catch the afternoon express.

And what a time it had been--those three days!

Mrs. John, resting in the big chair on the front porch, thought of those days with complacency--that they were over. Grandpa and Grandma Burton, hovering over old treasures in the attic, thought of them with terrified dismay--that they had ever begun.

I am coming up on Tuesday [Mrs. John had written]. We have been thinking for some time that you and father ought not to be left alone up there on the farm any longer. Now don’t worry about the packing. I shall bring Marie, and you won’t have to lift your finger. John will come Thursday night, and be there for the auction on Friday. By that time we shall have picked out what is worth saving, and everything will be ready for him to take matters in hand. I think he has already written to the auctioneer, so tell father to give himself no uneasiness on that score.

John says he thinks we can have you back here with us by Friday night, or Saturday at the latest. You know John’s way, so you may be sure there will be no tiresome delay. Your rooms here will be all ready before I leave, so that part will be all right.

This may seem a bit sudden to you, but you know we have always told you that the time was surely coming when you couldn’t live alone any longer. John thinks it has come now; and, as I said before, you know John, so, after all, you won’t be surprised at his going right ahead with things. We shall do everything possible to make you comfortable, and I am sure you will be very happy here.

Good-bye, then, until Tuesday. With love to both of you.

Edith.

That had been the beginning. To Grandpa and Grandma Burton it had come like a thunderclap on a clear day. They had known, to be sure, that son John frowned a little at their lonely life; but that there should come this sudden transplanting, this ruthless twisting and tearing up of roots that for sixty years had been burrowing deeper and deeper--it was almost beyond one’s comprehension.

And there was the auction!

“We shan’t need that, anyway,” Grandma Burton had said at once. “What few things we don’t want to keep I shall give away. An auction, indeed! Pray, what have we to sell?”

“Hm-m! To be sure, to be sure,” her husband had murmured; but his face was troubled, and later he had said, apologetically: “You see, Hannah, there’s the farm things.

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