Sisters

by Grace May North

  CHAPTER XXVII. FUN AS FARMERS

  Grandpa Si and Grandma Sue were alone at a five o'clock breakfast. Theydid not wish Jenny to get up that early as there was really nothing todo, but make the morning coffee, fry the bacon and flapjacks, whichconstituted the farmer's breakfast menu every day in the year.

  Silas Warner often tried to persuade his good wife to sleep later,telling her that he could well enough prepare his own breakfast, but hehad long since desisted, realizing that he would be depriving her of oneof their happiest hours together. It was then, when they were quitealone, that they talked over many things, and this morning Susan foundher hands trembling as she poured the golden brown coffee into herhusband's large thick china cup. Silas had asked for three days tomeditate on the serious question of whether or not they should tell Jennythat she was not their own child, and Susan well knew that this morningshe would hear his decision.

  It was not until the cakes were fried and she was seated opposite himthat he looked over at her with his most genial smile, and yet the silentwatcher knew him so well that she could sense that he was not happy inthe decision which he evidently had reached. "Pa, you think it's best totell, don't you? I can sort o' see it comin'."

  "I reckon that's about what my ruminatin' fetched me to, Susan. You'n meknow how our gal's hankerin' for an own sister, and now that Lenora isgoin', she'll be lorner 'n ever, Jenny will." He glanced toward theclosed door which led to the living room where their "gal" slept sinceshe had given her bed to her guest. "I cal'late we'd better keep it darkthough till Lenora's gone, then sort of feel our way as how best to tellit. Thar's time enough. While Lenora's here, there ain't no need for anyother sister for our gal."

  Susan Warner sighed, even while she smiled waveringly. "Wall, Si, if youthink it's best, I reckon 'tis. But it'll be powerful hard to have Jennythinkin' the less of us."

  The good man rose and walked around the table and placed a big gnarledhand on his wife's shoulder. "Tut! Tut! Susy," that was the name he hadused in the courtin' days, "our gal ain't made of no sech clay as that.She'll stick by us all the tighter, you see if 'taint so."

  Further conversation on the subject was prevented by the arrival ofHarold and Charles decked in overalls, which the former lad had obtainedfrom his mother's gardener.

  Silas Warner stepped out on the side porch to greet them and his grin wasat its widest. "Wall, I swan to glory, if here ain't my two helpers.Ready to milk the cow, Harry-lad?"

  Mrs. Warner appeared in the open door, her blue checked apron wound abouther hands. She smiled and nodded. "Speak quietly, boys. We like Lenora tosleep as late as she can," was her admonition.

  The farmer led the way to the barn and there he again stood grinning hisamusement. The boys laughed good naturedly. "Say, them overalls ofyour'n, Harry, are sort o' baggy, 'pears like to me. You could get one o'Ma's best pillars in front thar easy."

  The younger lad agreed. "Charles has the best of it. Our gardener is justabout his size. Now if only we had a couple of wide straw hats with tornbrims, we'd look the part."

  Shaking with mirth, the old man led the boys to a shed adjoining thebarn, where on a row of nails were several hats ragged and tatteredenough to suit the most exacting comedian. "Great!" the younger laddonned one and seizing the milk pail from the farmer's hand, he struck anattitude, exclaiming dramatically "Lead me to the cow." But he was tofind that a college education did not help one to milk, and after a fewfutile efforts he rose, and, with a flourish, offered the bench toCharles, who, having often milked, had the task done in short order.Harry watched the process closely, declaring that in the evening he wouldshow them.

  That same morning Mrs. Poindexter-Jones awakened feeling better than shehad in a long time.

  While Miss Dane was busying herself about the room, the older woman laythoughtfully gazing at a double frame picture on the wall. It containedphotographs of two children, one about eight and the other about five.How beautiful Gwynette had been with her long golden curls and what amanly little chap Harold. She sighed deeply. The boy had not changed butthe girl----.

  Another thought interrupted: "Now that you and Harold both believe thatit may be partly your fault, you may feel differently toward Gwynette."

  "I do love her," the woman had to acknowledge. "One cannot bring upanything from babyhood and not care, but I was not wise. I overindulgedthe child because she was so beautiful, and I was proud to have peoplethink her my own, and, later, when she was so heartlessly selfish, I washurt. Poor Gwynette."

  Aloud she said: "Miss Dane, please telephone the seminary and tell mydaughter that I am sending the carriage for her at four this afternoon. Iwant her to come home. Then, when my son comes, tell him I wish to seehim. He told me that he would be here in the early afternoon."

  "Very well. I will attend to it." The nurse glided from the room totelephone Gwynette. Half an hour later she returned. The woman looked upalmost eagerly. Miss Dane merely said, "The message was given."

  She did not care to tell that the girl's voice had been coldlyindifferent. Her reply had been, "Very well. One place does as well asanother!"

  At noon, after a morning cultivating in the fields, the boys were notsorry when the farmer advised them to take it easy during the afternoon.The day was very warm.

  "Well, we will, just at first, while hardening up." Harold was afraid thefarmer would think that he was not in earnest about wanting to help, butthere was no twinkle evident in the kind blue eyes of Silas Warner.

  The boys, hoes over their shoulders, walked single file through the fieldof corn toward the farmhouse. The girls had not yet seen them and theyexpected to be well laughed at. Nor were they mistaken. They found Jennyand Lenora out in the kitchen garden. The former maiden had beengathering luscious, big, red strawberries, while her friend sat nearby ona rustic bench. Jenny stood upright, her basket brimming full, and so shefirst saw the queer procession.

  "Oh, Lenora, do look! Is it or is it not your brother Charles?" Thegrinning boys doffed their frayed straw hats and made deep bows. Jennypretended to be surprised. "Why, Harold, is that you? I thought Grandpahad hired a tramp or two to help out. My, but you look hot!"

  "Indeed, young ladies, it does not take much perspicacity to make thatdiscovery." He mopped his brow with his handkerchief as he spoke.

  Charles laughed. "It's harder on Harold than on me. We do this sort ofthing every day up at the Agricultural School."

  Then, to tease, he added: "Why don't you invite the girls to watch youmilk this evening?"

  "Well, I may at that," the younger boy said, nothing daunted by theirlaughter. "But just now we must hie us to our cabin. I promised to visitMother about two." Then to Charles he suggested: "Before we eat the goodlunch Sing Long will have for us, suppose we go swimming, old man, whatsay?"

  "Agreed! It sounds good to me!" Turning to his sister, Charles took herhand lovingly. "I'll be over to spend the afternoon with you, dear?"

  Harold, glancing almost shyly at the other girl, wished he could say thesame thing to her. Then it was he recalled something. "Charles," he said,"Mother wanted me to bring you over to the big house this afternoon. Icall it that to designate it from the cabin. She is eager to meet my newfriend."

  "Indeed I shall be very glad to meet your mother." Then smiling tenderlyat the girl whose hand he still held, he said: "You do feel strongertoday, don't you, sister?" She nodded happily, then away the two boysran.

  An hour later, refreshed and sleek-looking after their swim, they sat ata small table on the pine-sheltered side porch and ate the good lunchSing Long had prepared for them.

  "This is great!" Charles enthusiastically exclaimed. "I'd like Lenora tosee it."

  "Better still, in a few days, when she is able to walk this far, we willinvite the girls to dine." Harold hesitated, flushed a little and addedas an after thought: "Of course we'll ask my sister, too." Again he hadcompletely forgotten Gwynette. His good resolution was going to be hardto put
into effect, it would seem.

  "I shall be glad to meet your mother and also your sister," Charles wassaying.

  An impulse came to Harold to confide in Charles. Ought he or ought henot? He knew that he could trust his new friend and his advice might beinvaluable. And so he began hesitatingly: "I'm going to tell yousomething, Charles, which I never told to anyone else. In fact, it's onlyrecently that Mother realized I knew about it. But now a complication hasrisen. We, Mother and I, don't know _what_ is best to do, and what ismore, Silas and Susan Warner have to be considered."

  "Don't tell me unless you are quite sure that you want to, old man,"Charles said in his frank, friendly way, adding, "We make confidences,sometimes, rather on an impulse, and wish later that we had not."

  "Yes, I know. There are fellows I wouldn't trust to keep the matter dark,but I know that you will. We especially do not wish Jenny Warner to knowor Gwynette, my sister, until we have figured out whether or not it wouldbe best. Of course, my mother and the Warners thought they were doing theright thing. Well, I won't keep you wondering about it any longer. I'lltell you the whole story as Mother told it to me only two days ago."

  Charles listened seriously. They had finished their lunch and hadsauntered down to the cliff before the tale was completed.

  "That certainly is a problem," was the first comment. "I can easilyunderstand that your mother wished to keep the matter a secret, but I dofeel sorry for the girls. No one knows the comfort my sister has been tome. I would have lost a great joy out of my life if she had been takenfrom me--if we had grown up without knowing each other."

  "Of course you would, old man," Harold agreed heartily. "But, you see, Iearly figured out that Gwynette couldn't be my own sister, and I havenever really cared for her nor has she for me. Well, she'll be cominghome tomorrow and then you can tell better, perhaps, after having mether, how to advise me. Mother said she would abide by my decision. Iasked Mums to postpone for two weeks an ultimatum in the matter." Then,placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, he added: "Now I must go overand see Mother. If you care to wait in the cabin, I'll be back in half anhour. I'll find out when my mother will be able to see you."

  "Of course I'll wait. Lenora ought to rest after lunch, I suppose. I'llbe glad to browse among the interesting books. Don't hurry on myaccount."

  Ten minutes later Harold was admitted to his mother's room.

  "I am keeping awake just for this visit," the smiling woman said when hehad kissed her. "Is your friend with you?"

  "No, he is at the cabin. I thought perhaps at first you would rather seeme alone. I will go back and get him if you would like to meet him now."

  Instead of answering him, the woman turned to the nurse, who was seatedat a window sewing: "Miss Dane, if I sleep for two hours, I might meetHarold's friend about five, don't you think?" The nurse assented.

  To her son she then said, "I would like you and your friend to dine hereevery evening. Please begin tonight."

  She purposely did not tell Harold that his sister would be at home andwould need his companionship.