Part 27 (1/2)

”Oh, dear me!” Ezekiel essayed to, but laid down his spoon. ”I don't want anything, I'm so tired.”

Mrs. Henderson cast an anxious glance over at him.

”No need to worry,” her husband telegraphed back, going quietly on with his own dinner. Rachel had begun on hers with hungry zest, but stopped suddenly, hopped out of her chair, and raced to the door.

”Rachel!” It wasn't a loud voice, but she found herself back again and looking into Mrs. Henderson's face.

”Sit down, dear; we do not leave the table in that way.”

So Rachel slipped into her seat, feeling as if all the blood in her body were in her hot cheeks.

”Now, what is it?” The parson's wife took one of the brown hands working nervously under the tablecloth. ”Tell me; don't be afraid,” she said softly. But Miss Jerusha heard.

”Stuff and nonsense!” she exclaimed, with a sneer. ”When I was a child, there was no such coddlin' goin' on, I can tell you.”

”It's Peletiah,” said Rachel. ”Oh, dear me! he's out on the piazza, and he must be awfully hungry. Can't I make him come in?”

”No, sit still. Husband”--the parson's wife looked down the table--”excuse me a minute.” She slipped out, and in another moment in she came, and Peletiah with her.

And then Mr. Henderson told such a funny story about a monkey he had read about only just that very morning, that Ezekiel forgot there ever was such a thing as tired legs, and even Peletiah had no thoughts for that dreadful run home from Grandma Bascom's.

As for Rachel, all idea of dinner flew at once out of her head. She laid down her knife and fork and leaned forward with sparkling eyes, to catch every word. Seeing which, Mrs. Henderson burst out laughing.

”I'm afraid you are making things worse, husband,” she said, ”for they won't eat any dinner at all now.”

”I surely am,” said the parson, with another laugh, ”and I thought I was going to help so much,” he added ruefully.

”How you can laugh,” exclaimed Miss Jerusha sourly, at the good time in progress, and sitting quite stiffly, ”I don't for my part see.”

”Oh, well, if you'd laugh more, it would be better for all of us, Jerusha,”

said her brother good-naturedly.

”I ain't a-goin' to laugh,” declared Miss Jerusha, ”and it's a wicked, sinful shame to set such an example before those boys, like coddlin' up that girl for keepin' them off playin'. I never see such goin's on!”

”We haven't been playing,” said Peletiah stoutly.

”I told her so,” said Ezekiel fretfully, seeing that his father had no more monkey stories to offer, ”but she keeps saying it just the same. I wish she'd go off and play,” he added vindictively.

The idea of Miss Jerusha ever having played, made Rachel turn in her chair and regard her fixedly. Then she broke out into a laugh; it was such a merry peal that presently the boys joined in, and even the parson and his wife had hard work to keep their faces straight.

”Well, if I _ever_ see such goin's on!” Miss Jerusha shoved back her chair and stalked out of the room.

”Did she ever play?” asked Rachel, when the door into the keeping-room had slammed.

”Why, yes, of course, child,” said Mrs. Henderson, with a smile, ”when she was a little girl.”

”And was she ever a little girl?” persisted Rachel.

”Why, certainly. Now eat your dinner, Rachel.”

Rachel picked up her knife and fork. When the two boys saw that she was ready to really begin on her meal, they set to on theirs.