Her brother’s words came back to her mind many times that day as she went about her household tasks. Of course they mightn’t want to live right here always. Jack must finish college, as they planned; but she wanted to go through high school; and after that, the magical trip to the States, where Jack might find his life-work. How many times they had gone over it all! At the rate money had come in so far, however, it would take many years to realize any of these day dreams, to say nothing of all of them. It seemed, no matter how careful she tried to be, to take so much money to feed and clothe them; and if somebody should claim the cabin—well, she’d better not think about that any more just now.
Late in the afternoon, when the lane was getting shadowy, the girls and René were sitting on the broad stone step watching for Jack. The sound of an approaching automobile broke the country stillness, and Judge Herbine’s Ford presently stopped. Jack got out, followed by a big, awkward-looking brown dog. With one wild shriek, René dashed down the lane and threw his arms around the animal’s neck. The judge waved to the girls, and drove away laughing.
“I’ve got a dog! I’ve got a dog!” chanted René, dragging the big beast toward the house.
“He’s perfectly gentle, for all his size,” said Jack in reply to Desiré’s questioning look. “But René, you must be kind to the dog, and never hurt him.”
“Where in the world did you get him?” demanded Priscilla, who did not like any dog very well, and especially a big one.
“The judge found him somewhere off in the country,” replied Jack, sitting down on the step which was much too low for his long legs.
“He is hardly a beauty,” observed Desiré, watching René mauling his new friend.
“No, but he’s always been used to children, and the judge thought that a good recommendation. Of course he’s awkward, and probably mischievous; for he’s not yet full grown—”
“Don’t tell me he will get bigger!” groaned Desiré. “Where shall we ever put him?”
“I’ll fix a place; don’t worry about that part of it,” Jack promised, getting up to go into the cabin.
The evening was a riot of small boy and dog. With much difficulty they were separated at bedtime; for René insisted upon his new pal sleeping on the foot of the bed, and wept copiously when the dog was banished. They said he mustn’t ever hurt the dog, he moaned, and here they were hurting him by taking him away!
“If you’re going to be unruly over the dog,” said Jack, “I shall take him right back, and you will never have another.”
“Jack will fix Rover up all nice somewhere,” promised Desiré, “and you’ll see him again in the morning.”
Quiet was restored, and after she had gotten René to bed, Desiré went out behind the cabin where Jack was preparing a place for the new member of the family. He had turned on an end the box which had held their belongings while they were on the road, and placed a bit of old carpet in the bottom.
“Behold the kennel!” he said proudly, with a wave of the hand.
“But will he stay in it?” asked Desiré, somewhat doubtfully.
“Not without being tied, for a few nights,” replied Jack, running a rope from the dog’s collar through a stout staple on the side of the box. “Then he’ll be used to the place.”
“You haven’t told me anything yet about your job prospects,” said Desiré rather reproachfully, as they walked around to the front door.
“How could I, in all the noise and excitement?” laughed Jack. “Let’s sit out here for a while. Wait a minute; I’ll get a couple of chairs.”
He brought out the rocker for his sister, and a straight chair for himself, tilting it back against the side of the house to make it more comfortable.
“It’s a great night,” he commented, with a sigh of content. “Just see that moon! Doesn’t it look as if it were stuck in the top of the trees?”
“Nights like this ought to make our gardens grow fast,” replied Desiré. “Now what about the job?”
“Well, I have a temporary one; will last about a week or two; and a promise of a steady one for the rest of the summer. Isn’t that great?”
“Certainly is. Where, and what doing?”
“You know we heard that there was to be a bus line through this part of the country?”
“Yes, but you can’t drive a bus, Jack.”
“Hardly; but it seems that the company that is to run it is sending men here from Boston who, though they know how to run busses, know nothing about the country. So I’m to ride around with them, show them the best roads, and tell them local history until they’ve learned the ropes. Of course that won’t take very long, but it’s fair pay while it lasts. They’ll pick me up at the end of the lane here every day.”
“Priscilla and René will be desperately envious of you, I’m afraid.”
“Very likely. Maybe before the season is over I’ll be able to take all of you on a little trip, over part of the route at least.”
“That would be lovely, but don’t mention it before the children. I feel that if we have any extra money it ought to be put away.”
“I suppose you’re right; but I’d like to be able to give you a little pleasure sometimes.”
“I know, and I do have pleasure, Jack; and we’ll just look forward to more chance for such things in the future. And about the other job?”
“Jim Rutland is going to open a kind of lunch stand in one end of his general store; for tourists, you know. He wants me to run it.”
“But why does Jim need anyone? I should think he could attend to both himself.”
“He has to be out of the store quite a lot. He sells everything from chickens to farm machinery, has a gas station, and I don’t know what else. He thought his son would stay home and help him out this summer, as he did last; but he had a chance to go to the States, and he’s going.”
“Is it much of a job, Jack?” asked Desiré, rather doubtfully.
“Not so much, but there’s pretty good money in it. He is going to let me have a small commission on the tourist business, aside from a fair salary. Makes it more interesting, and it will do very well indeed until I have an opportunity at something better. It will keep us going until fall—when I can have the mail again—and I hope will give us something to add to the ‘nest egg.’”
They fell silent, Jack wondering how he could get something really worth while to do, and Desiré racking her brains to think of some way in which she could contribute to their income.
“Who’s going to do the baking for the lunch room?” she asked suddenly, “Jim hasn’t a wife or mother, has he?”
“No; but why do you want to know?”
“I thought I might do it.”
“You! You have plenty to do now.”
“Not really, dear. The work here is very easy, and Prissy is getting to be quite a help. It wouldn’t be at all hard to bake some cookies and tarts, make sandwiches, and things like that. I could make pies, using wild berries which the children could gather. Oh, if Jim Rutland is willing, say you’ll let me try, Jack. I’ll bet you’d have the most popular lunch room in Nova Scotia! And think what it would mean, with your commission!”
“I’ve no doubt of its popularity after people had once tasted the good things you can make.”
“I could spread my biscuits with jam, or serve them hot with honey; and, oh, there would be no end to the nice little things, all ready to eat, that you could sell or serve.”
Desiré’s imagination, fired by her enthusiasm, supplied her with numerous ideas to be put into practice if only Jack wouldn’t object.
“Do let me try it, Jack.”
“I’m afraid that you would overwork.”
“Nonsense. Of course I won’t. I promise to give it up if I feel that it’s too much. But I just love to cook.”
“Well, I’ll speak to Jim tomorrow, if I get a chance, and see what his plans are. Meanwhile, I’ve got to be ready to meet the bus at seven-thirty in the morning; so let’s go in.”
CHAPTER XXVIII
A FIND
“Sorry?” asked Desiré, looking up from the lettuce she was preparing for their supper.
“It has been pleasant,” replied her brother, selecting a radish from a dish on the table, and beginning to eat it. “George, the driver, is a nice fellow, and we’ve had some fun together; but it’s a kind of a lazy life, after all. Of course somebody has to do it, but I think I prefer more activity.”
“Have you seen Jim yet about the baked goods?”
Jack’s hours had been so arranged that he had been unable to stop at the Rutland General Store.
“Ran across him this noon. He’s tickled to death over your ideas, and says he’ll take everything you can make, starting Thursday.”
Desiré was delighted.
“You’ll just have to get rid of that horrid dog,” declared Priscilla, coming in at that moment, about ready to cry.
“Why, what’s he done now?” asked Jack.
“He went and dug up all my nasturtiums. He’s always digging somewhere. He’s a perfect pest!”
“I’ll look after him,” said her brother, going out to the garden.
He punished Rover, and, leaving Priscilla replanting the remnants of her flowers, returned to Desiré.
“I wouldn’t say it before the children,” said Desiré, when Jack reported the condition of Priscilla’s garden, “but Rover has a most unfortunate passion for digging; and, as if he knew that Priscilla disapproved of him, he usually selects some part of her garden. I’ve whipped him two or three times, but back he goes the next time the fancy strikes him.”
Jack laughed. “I can imagine the kind of beatings you give him. But,” he added anxiously, “had you rather get rid of him?”
“Oh, no; he’s such a lovable animal that you can’t help being attached to him in spite of his faults; and then, too, René thinks the world of him. It wouldn’t be fair to take away his pet.”
The following morning, just as the big bus reached the lane, one of the tires exploded with a loud report; and Jack had to help the driver make repairs. The other Wistmores stood in the shade of the trees, watching; even Desiré could not resist the opportunity to see what had to be done. There were a few passengers already on board, and two or three of them got out to stroll up and down the road.
“What a darling house!” exclaimed one young lady, peering down the lane. “Come here, Dad; see!”
The grey-haired man looked in the direction of her pointing finger, then at the little group under the trees.
“You live here?” he asked.
“Oh, do you?” said the lady, before Desiré had hardly finished her affirmative reply; “then may we look at the house?”
“Certainly,” replied the girl politely, although she was far from willing to show it.
The man and woman examined the cabin both inside and out, with keen interest; even the garden was included in the inspection. Occasionally they talked together in such low tones that Desiré could not distinguish what they were saying. She felt a queer sinking dread as she followed them around. The children had stayed near the bus, and it seemed as if she were abandoned to these odd tourists.
On the stone doorstep the man turned back, after they had gone over the place for the second time.
“Do you own this?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“Who does?” demanded the woman.
“It doesn’t belong to anybody, really,” confessed poor Desiré reluctantly. “It’s something about a title. We just live here.”
“Oh, Dad, buy it for me. I must have it!” exclaimed the young woman.
“I’ll make inquiries, and—” the man was saying, when a loud blast from the horn summoned them to the bus. They hurried down the lane with a careless goodbye to the girl in the doorway.
“Oh, Dissy,” called Priscilla, running toward her, closely followed by René and Rover. “Why—what’s the matter?” as she noticed her sister’s pale face and unnatural manner.
“Just tired,” Desiré managed to reply, though such a storm of emotion surged within her that she felt almost overcome by it.
“Go and lie down, and I’ll do the dishes and clean up,” offered Priscilla. “René, take the dog out to the garden and stay there until I call you,” she added importantly. “Dissy’s going to take a nap.”
“Thank you, Priscilla dear,” replied the girl gratefully. “I think I shall lie down. Call me at eleven o’clock. I shan’t need anything until then.”
Desiré kissed her little sister, escaped into her room as quickly as possible, and closed the door. In the privacy and quiet which she felt she must have at all costs, she gave way to tears. What would they do now? For these rich people could get anything they set their hearts on. Jack was right in warning her not to get too fond of the place. She thought she hadn’t, but now when it was slipping slowly but surely from their grasp—Oh! and Desiré hid her face in the pillow to drown her sobs.
Presently she forced herself to grow calmer, and when Priscilla quietly put her head in at eleven o’clock Desiré, pale, but outwardly composed, was bathing her face.
“It was sweet of you to take care of things, Prissy dear,” she said. “I’ll get dinner now; I’m quite all right. You run out-of-doors until it’s ready.”
After a searching look at her sister, the child obeyed; but all the afternoon she kept making excuses to come to the front yard, where Desiré sat sewing, to see if she was all right. While her sister was getting supper, Priscilla walked down the lane to meet Jack.
“I’m afraid there’s something awful the matter with Dissy, Jack,” began the child, slipping her hand into his. “She’s not really sick—I don’t think—but she’s not a bit like her.”
“Well,” replied Jack quietly, for he had heard bits of conversation on the bus that day, and they gave him an advance inkling of Desiré’s trouble, “don’t say anything to her, or let her know that you notice anything. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
“I didn’t, Jack. I just helped all I could, and stayed where she could call me.”
“That’s a good girl; you’re getting to be a great help to us,” tightening his grasp on her brown, plump little hand.
Fortunately René had a silly fit at the table, and kept them all laughing in spite of themselves; so the meal passed off without any constraint or self-consciousness. After the children were in bed, and the cabin in order for the night, Jack drew Desiré out on the doorstep, and, sitting down, beside her, put his arm around her.
“Now tell me all about it,” he suggested gently.
“About what, Jack?”
“Whatever’s troubling you. It’s not fair to keep me in the dark, you know.”
Dropping her head on his broad shoulder, she related, in disjointed sentences, the history of the morning.
“I guessed as much,” he commented, as she finished. “I overheard their conversation on the bus.”
“Can’t they take it, if they don’t mind not having—having—”
“A clear title? I don’t know, dear; I’ll see what I can find out from the judge tomorrow. I should say, though, that we must not expect to keep it. We talked of that possibility; don’t you remember?”
“Yes; but—such a thing seemed so—so very improbable,” faltered Desiré. “The place had been deserted for so long.”
“If we have to give it up we can probably find something in town. There’s an old place near Judge Herbine’s, and another one on the road to the Basin. Don’t take it so to heart, Dissy; we’ll find a place somewhere, even if we have to leave this; and we may not. It’s not like you to look on the dark side of things.”
Cheered by Jack’s words and manner, Desiré began to feel that she had been foolish to let herself become so disturbed, and she made a heroic effort to resume her natural manne
r. She succeeded so well that by bedtime they were laughing over the discovery of Rover’s latest escapade, a hole dug beside the step on which they were sitting. Jack set his foot in it as they rose to go in, thereby nearly upsetting himself and Desiré as well.
“Oh, by the way, Dissy,” remarked Jack after they had gone into the house, “I almost forgot to tell you something. You’ll never guess whom I saw today.”
“Then tell me right away.”
“My old enemy.”
“Oh, Jack!” cried Desiré fearfully. “Where?”
“On the bus. He was on his way to work in the orchards around Annapolis. He was rather friendly, for him, and just as he was leaving the bus, he thrust these into my hand and told me to give them to you.”
Desiré peered curiously at the round, brown things which her brother pulled out of his pocket.
“What are they?”
“Some kind of bulbs. You’d better plant them tomorrow.”
“What’s the use if we’re going to lose the place?” she queried, rather bitterly.
Jack looked at her reprovingly. “That doesn’t sound a bit like my cheerful partner.”
“You’re right, Jack. I’m sorry. I’ll plant them tomorrow, and if we don’t see them bloom, perhaps they will give pleasure to someone else.”
The next morning she selected a lightly shaded spot where the soil looked rich and promising, and began to dig. Before long, her spade struck a large stone.
“Wonder if I can get that out?” she thought. “This is the best place in the yard for unknown plants; for they’ll get a mixture of sun and shade.”
Vigorously she attacked the stone, and after much exertion succeeded in getting it out. Rolling it carelessly to one side, she was busily trying to smooth out the ragged, uneven earth with the spade, when there was a sound of metal striking on metal.
“Jack,” she called to her brother, who was in the house reenforcing a shelf.
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