Part 7 (1/2)

”Yes,” Dr. Lavendar told him cheerfully.

”But if she is his sister,” the little boy reasoned, ”why didn't she kiss him? Janey, she--she always gave me forty kisses.”

”Just forty?” Dr. Lavendar inquired, looking at the child over his spectacles.

David was silent for a moment, then he said, earnestly: ”I never counted. But Janey, she always said 'forty kisses.'” His whole face quivered. A very large tear gathered, trembled, then rolled over; he held his hands together under the lap-robe and looked the other way; then he raised one shoulder and rubbed his cheek against it.

”I guess Janey was a pretty nice sister,” Dr. Lavendar said.

David's hands tightened; he looked up speechless, into the kind old face.

”David,” said Dr. Lavendar in a business-like way, ”would you mind driving for me? I want to look over my note-book.”

”Driving?” said David. ”Oh, _my!_” His cheeks were wet but his eyes shone. ”I don't mind, sir. I'd just as lieves as not!”

CHAPTER V

”So that's the youngster we're going to adopt, is it?” Mr. Pryor said; then he looked at Helena through his curling brown lashes, with open amus.e.m.e.nt. Her eyes were full of tears.

”It has been--so long,” she said faintly.

”I've been very busy,” he explained.

She nodded and smiled. ”Anyhow, you are here now. But, oh, Maggie has a sore throat. I don't know what we're going to have for dinner. Oh, how glad I am you're here!” Her face was glowing, but her chin trembled.

”Why, this is very flattering, I'm sure; I thought you were so taken up with your orphan that you wouldn't care whether I came or not.”

”You know that isn't true,” she said gayly, brus.h.i.+ng her cheek against his arm; ”but isn't he a dear little fellow?--though I'm sorry his hair isn't curly.” Then her face changed. ”What did he mean about Alice being nineteen?”

”Oh, Alice? Why, he asked me in the stage if I had any children, and I put Alice's age as a sum in mental arithmetic for him. And he asked me if my name was Goliath.”

But she had forgotten David. ”Lloyd! To think you are here!”

”Yes, I'm here, and a hamper is here, too. I hope the stage will bring it up pretty soon. I don't believe I could stand an Old Chester bill of fare. It's queer about women; they don't care what they eat. I don't believe you've got anything on hand but bread and jam and tea?”

”I care a great deal!” she a.s.sured him laughing, and then looked worried. ”Yes, I really have been living on bread and jam.” She was hanging on his arm, and once she kissed his hand. ”Will you go upstairs? And I'll see what we can do about food. That dreadful Maggie! She's sick in bed.”

Mr. Pryor looked annoyed. ”Can't she get us something to eat? Ask her, Nelly; I don't believe it will hurt her. Here; give her that,” and he took a crumpled bill out of his waistcoat pocket.

She did not take the money, but her eyes shone. ”You are the most generous being!” she said. Then, sobering, she thought of Maggie's throat--hesitated--and Maggie was lost. For when she opened the woman's door, and in her sweet, appealing voice declared that Mr.

Pryor had come unexpectedly, and was so hungry--what _should_ they do?--Maggie, who adored her, insisted upon going down to the kitchen.

”Oh, Maggie, you oughtn't to! I oughtn't to let you. Maggie, look here: you will be careful, won't you?”

”Now, you go right along back to your brother,” the woman commanded smiling. ”I'm goin' to get into my clothes; t'won't do me a bit of harm.”

And Helena, protesting and joyous, fled to her room and to her mirror.

She flung off her cambric morning dress and ran to hunt in her wardrobe for something pretty. With girlish hurry she pulled her hair down, braided it afresh, and fastened the burnished plats around her head like a wreath; then she brushed the soft locks in the nape of her neck about her finger, and let them fall into loose curls. She dressed with breathless haste, and when she finished, stood for a minute, her lip between her teeth, staring at herself in the gla.s.s. And as she stared her face fell; for as the color and sparkle faded a little, care suddenly looked out of the leaf-brown eyes--care and something like fright. But instantly drawing in her breath, she flung her head up as one who prepares for battle. When she went down-stairs and found Mr. Pryor waiting for her in the parlor, the sparkle had all come back. She had put on a striped silk dress, faint rose and green, made very full in the skirt; her flat lace collar was fastened by a little old pin--an oval of pearls holding a strand of hair like floss-silk.