Part 25 (2/2)
One Sat.u.r.day morning in the latter part of March, Mildred Vandecar persuaded her mother to allow her to go, accompanied by Katherine, to the Sh.e.l.lington home. They found Ann reading aloud to the twins, Flukey resting on the divan. Mildred was presented to him, and in the hour that followed the sick boy became her devoted subject.
The three young people listened eagerly to the story, and after it was finished Ann entered into conversation with Katherine.
Suddenly she heard Flukey exclaim, in answer to some question put by Mildred:
”My sister and me ain't got no mother!”
Miss Sh.e.l.lington colored and partly rose; but she had no chance to speak, for Mildred was saying:
”Oh, dear! how you must miss her! Is she dead? And haven't you any father, either?”
”Yep,” said Flukey; ”but he ain't no good. He hates us, he does, and worse than that, he's a thief!”
Mildred drew back with a shocked cry. Ann was up instantly; while Fledra got to her feet with effort. She remembered how carefully Ann had instructed her never to mention Lon Cronk or any of the episodes in their early days at Ithaca; but Flukey had never been thus warned.
”Mildred, dear,” Ann said anxiously, ”Floyd and Fledra were unfortunate in losing their mother, and more unfortunate in having a father who doesn't care for them as your father does for you.” She pa.s.sed an arm about Fledra and continued, ”It would be better if we were not to talk of family troubles any more, Floyd.... Fledra, won't you ask Mildred to play something for you?”
The rest of Mildred's stay was so strained that Miss Sh.e.l.lington breathed a sigh of relief when Katherine suggested going. For a few seconds neither Ann nor Fledra spoke after the closing of the door. It was the latter who finally broke the silence.
”Flukey hadn't ought to have said anything about Pappy Lon; but he didn't know--he thought everybody knew about us.... Are ye going to send us away now?”
The girl's anxiety and worried look caused Ann to rea.s.sure her quickly.
In describing the events of the afternoon to her mother, Mildred wept bitterly. When a grave look spread over Mrs. Vandecar's face, Katherine interposed:
”Aunty, while those children undoubtedly had bad parents, they will really amount to something, I'm sure.”
It was not until she was alone with Katherine that Mrs. Vandecar opened the subject.
”I'm almost afraid I was incautious to allow a friends.h.i.+p to spring up between this strange child and Mildred. I wish I could see her.”
”Ask her here, then. She's very pretty, very gentle, and needs young friends sadly, although the Sh.e.l.lingtons are treating the two children beautifully. If they don't grow up to be good, it won't be Ann's fault, nor Horace's.”
”I'll invite the child to come some afternoon, then.” With this decision the subject dropped.
That evening Ann went out on a charitable mission, leaving Fledra to deliver a message to Everett and to care for Floyd. The boy was in bed, his thin white hands resting wearily at his sides. For sometime he allowed his sister to work at her lessons. Then he said impetuously:
”Flea, why be these folks always so kind to you and me? They ain't never been mad yet, and I'm allers a yowlin' 'cause my bones and my heart hurt me.”
Flea looked up from her book meditatively.
”They're both good, that's why.”
”It's 'cause they pray all the time, ain't it?” Floyd asked.
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