Part 12 (2/2)

”Eh? What is it? I don't understand!”

The old lady was growing deaf, and when she objected to what was being said, she would become doubly deaf. Like her younger granddaughter, she had always been accustomed to getting her own way.

[Sidenote: ”Your Turn now!”]

”You want to do--what?” as Joan tried to explain. ”I wish you would speak more clearly, my dear, and not put your lips together when you talk. Mrs. Ferris! Yes, of course I know Mrs. Ferris. I knew her long before _you_ came here. She wants you for the day? Well, one of you can go, and the other must stay with me. You've got to take turns. That is only reasonable. Mittie went last time, so it is your turn now.”

But Mittie never cared about turns.

”I suppose you couldn't for once--just once, Grannie, dear--spare us both together?”

Joan said this with such a sinking of heart that, had the old lady known it, she would surely have yielded. A sick fear had come over the girl lest Fred might think that she was staying away on purpose--because she did not want to see him. But she only looked rather white, and smiled as usual.

”Spare you both! What!--leave me alone the whole day, both of you!” The old lady was scandalised. ”I didn't think before that you were a selfish girl, Joan. Well, well, never mind!--you're not generally, I know. But of course it is out of the question, so lame as I am--not able to get anything that I want. That wasn't in the bargain at all, when we settled that you should live with me.”

Joan knew that it was not. But it was very hard to bear!

She went to Mittie, and made one more attempt in that direction, ending, as she expected, unsuccessfully.

”It really is my turn, you know, Mittie, dear.”

”Your turn? What! because I went to that silly tea last week? As if the two things could be compared!”

Mittie ran to the gla.s.s to inspect herself.

”Why didn't you just tell Grannie that you meant to do it, instead of asking whether she could spare you? So absurd! She would have given in then.”

Joan might have answered, ”Because I have some sense of duty!” But she said nothing--it was so useless.

She debated whether to write a note for Mittie to take, and then decided that she would run down to the river-edge and would explain to Fred Ferris himself why she might not go, not implying any blame to her sister, but just saying that she could not leave her grandmother.

The thought of this cheered her up, for surely he would understand.

But a few minutes before the time fixed for his arrival a message summoned her to the old lady, and she found that for a good half-hour she would be unable to get away. All she could do was to rush to Mittie and to give a hurried message--which she felt far from certain would be correctly delivered.

Then for a moment she stood outside Mrs. Wills's room, choking back the sobs which swelled in her throat, and feeling very sad and hopeless at the thought of all she would miss, still more at the thought that her absence might be misunderstood.

From the window, as she attended to her grandmother's wants, she had a glimpse of Mittie, running gaily down the garden, in her pretty white frock, carrying an open j.a.panese parasol in one hand, while from the other dangled her hat and a small basket of flowers.

”Oh, Mittie, I wouldn't have done it to you--if you had cared as I do!”

she breathed.

When Mittie reached the stream, Ferris had that moment arrived.

He had made fast the painter, intending to run up to the house, and had stepped back into the boat to put the cus.h.i.+ons right.

A straight well-built young fellow, he looked eagerly up at the sound of steps; and when Mittie appeared alone, a momentary look of surprise came. But, of course Joan would follow!

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