Part 4 (1/2)

”s.h.i.+rley; it's a queer name for a girl, to my thinking.”

”Is she pretty?” Pauline went on.

”Not according to my notions; father says she is. She's thin and dark, and I never did see such a mane of hair--and it ain't always too tidy, neither--but she has got nice eyes and a nice friendly way of talking.

Looks to me, like she hasn't been brought up by a woman.”

”She sounds--interesting,” Pauline said, and when Mrs. Boyd had left them, to make a few changes in her supper arrangements, Pauline turned eagerly to Hilary. ”You're in luck, Hilary Shaw! The newest kind of new people; even if it isn't a new place!”

”How do you know they'll, or rather, she'll, want to know me?” Hilary asked, with one of those sudden changes of mood an invalid often shows, ”or I her? We haven't seen her yet. Paul, do you suppose Mrs. Boyd would mind letting me have supper in here?”

”Oh, Hilary, she's laid the table in the living-room! I heard her doing it. She'd be ever so disappointed.”

”Well,” Hilary said, ”come on then.”

Out in the living-room, they found Mr. Boyd waiting for them, and so heartily glad to see them, that Hilary's momentary impatience vanished.

To Pauline's delight, she really brought quite an appet.i.te to her supper.

”You should've come out here long ago, Hilary,” Mr. Boyd told her, and he insisted on her having a second helping of the creamed toast, prepared especially in her honor.

Before supper was over. Captain's deep-toned bark proclaimed a newcomer, or newcomers, seeing that it was answered immediately by a medley of shrill barks, in the midst of which a girl's voice sounded authoritively--”Quiet, Phil! Pat, I'm ashamed of you! Pudgey, if you're not good instantly, you shall stay at home to-morrow night!”

A moment later, the owner of the voice appeared at the porch door, ”May I come in, Mrs. Boyd?” she asked.

”Come right in, Miss s.h.i.+rley. I've a couple of young friends here, I want you should get acquainted with,” Mrs. Boyd cried.

”You ain't had your supper yet, have you, Miss s.h.i.+rley?” Mr. Boyd asked.

”Father and I had tea out on the lake,” s.h.i.+rley answered, ”but I'm hungry enough again by now, for a slice of Mrs. Boyd's bread and b.u.t.ter.”

And presently, she was seated at the table, chatting away with Paul and Hilary, as if they were old acquaintances, asking Mr. Boyd various questions about farm matters and answering Mrs. Boyd's questions regarding Betsy Todd and her doings, with the most delightful air of good comrades.h.i.+p imaginable.

”Oh, me!” Pauline pushed hack her chair regretfully, ”I simply must go, it'll be dark before I get home, as it is.”

”I reckon it will, deary,” Mrs. Boyd agreed, ”so I won't urge you to stay longer. Father, you just whistle to Colin to bring f.a.n.n.y 'round.”

Hilary followed her sister into the bedroom. ”You'll be over soon, Paul?”

Pauline, putting on her hat before the gla.s.s, turned quickly. ”As soon as I can. Hilary, don't you like her?”

Hilary balanced herself on the arm of the big, old-fas.h.i.+oned rocker.

”I think so. Anyway, I love to watch her talk; she talks all over her face.”

They went out to the gig, where Mr. and Mrs. Boyd and s.h.i.+rley were standing. s.h.i.+rley was feeding f.a.n.n.y with handfuls of fresh gra.s.s.

”Isn't she a fat old dear!” she said.

”She's a fat old poke!” Pauline returned. ”Mayn't I give you a lift?

I can go 'round by the manor road 's well as not.”

s.h.i.+rley accepted readily, settling herself in the gig, and balancing her pail of milk on her knee carefully.