each morning for a week; then Jack announced one night that tomorrow would be his last day.
CHAPTER XXVIII
A FIND
“Sorry?” asked Desiré, looking up from the lettuce she was preparing for their supper.
“It has been pleasant,” replied her brother, selecting a radish from a dish on the table, and beginning to eat it. “George, the driver, is a nice fellow, and we’ve had some fun together; but it’s a kind of a lazy life, after all. Of course somebody has to do it, but I think I prefer more activity.”
“Have you seen Jim yet about the baked goods?”
Jack’s hours had been so arranged that he had been unable to stop at the Rutland General Store.
“Ran across him this noon. He’s tickled to death over your ideas, and says he’ll take everything you can make, starting Thursday.”
Desiré was delighted.
“You’ll just have to get rid of that horrid dog,” declared Priscilla, coming in at that moment, about ready to cry.
“Why, what’s he done now?” asked Jack.
“He went and dug up all my nasturtiums. He’s always digging somewhere. He’s a perfect pest!”
“I’ll look after him,” said her brother, going out to the garden.
He punished Rover, and, leaving Priscilla replanting the remnants of her flowers, returned to Desiré.
“I wouldn’t say it before the children,” said Desiré, when Jack reported the condition of Priscilla’s garden, “but Rover has a most unfortunate passion for digging; and, as if he knew that Priscilla disapproved of him, he usually selects some part of her garden. I’ve whipped him two or three times, but back he goes the next time the fancy strikes him.”
Jack laughed. “I can imagine the kind of beatings you give him. But,” he added anxiously, “had you rather get rid of him?”
“Oh, no; he’s such a lovable animal that you can’t help being attached to him in spite of his faults; and then, too, René thinks the world of him. It wouldn’t be fair to take away his pet.”
The following morning, just as the big bus reached the lane, one of the tires exploded with a loud report; and Jack had to help the driver make repairs. The other Wistmores stood in the shade of the trees, watching; even Desiré could not resist the opportunity to see what had to be done. There were a few passengers already on board, and two or three of them got out to stroll up and down the road.
“What a darling house!” exclaimed one young lady, peering down the lane. “Come here, Dad; see!”
The grey-haired man looked in the direction of her pointing finger, then at the little group under the trees.
“You live here?” he asked.
“Oh, do you?” said the lady, before Desiré had hardly finished her affirmative reply; “then may we look at the house?”
“Certainly,” replied the girl politely, although she was far from willing to show it.
The man and woman examined the cabin both inside and out, with keen interest; even the garden was included in the inspection. Occasionally they talked together in such low tones that Desiré could not distinguish what they were saying. She felt a queer sinking dread as she followed them around. The children had stayed near the bus, and it seemed as if she were abandoned to these odd tourists.
On the stone doorstep the man turned back, after they had gone over the place for the second time.
“Do you own this?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“Who does?” demanded the woman.
“It doesn’t belong to anybody, really,” confessed poor Desiré reluctantly. “It’s something about a title. We just live here.”
“Oh, Dad, buy it for me. I must have it!” exclaimed the young woman.
“I’ll make inquiries, and—” the man was saying, when a loud blast from the horn summoned them to the bus. They hurried down the lane with a careless goodbye to the girl in the doorway.
“Oh, Dissy,” called Priscilla, running toward her, closely followed by René and Rover. “Why—what’s the matter?” as she noticed her sister’s pale face and unnatural manner.
“Just tired,” Desiré managed to reply, though such a storm of emotion surged within her that she felt almost overcome by it.
“Go and lie down, and I’ll do the dishes and clean up,” offered Priscilla. “René, take the dog out to the garden and stay there until I call you,” she added importantly. “Dissy’s going to take a nap.”
“Thank you, Priscilla dear,” replied the girl gratefully. “I think I shall lie down. Call me at eleven o’clock. I shan’t need anything until then.”
Desiré kissed her little sister, escaped into her room as quickly as possible, and closed the door. In the privacy and quiet which she felt she must have at all costs, she gave way to tears. What would they do now? For these rich people could get anything they set their hearts on. Jack was right in warning her not to get too fond of the place. She thought she hadn’t, but now when it was slipping slowly but surely from their grasp—Oh! and Desiré hid her face in the pillow to drown her sobs.
Presently she forced herself to grow calmer, and when Priscilla quietly put her head in at eleven o’clock Desiré, pale, but outwardly composed, was bathing her face.
“It was sweet of you to take care of things, Prissy dear,” she said. “I’ll get dinner now; I’m quite all right. You run out-of-doors until it’s ready.”
After a searching look at her sister, the child obeyed; but all the afternoon she kept making excuses to come to the front yard, where Desiré sat sewing, to see if she was all right. While her sister was getting supper, Priscilla walked down the lane to meet Jack.
“I’m afraid there’s something awful the matter with Dissy, Jack,” began the child, slipping her hand into his. “She’s not really sick—I don’t think—but she’s not a bit like her.”
“Well,” replied Jack quietly, for he had heard bits of conversation on the bus that day, and they gave him an advance inkling of Desiré’s trouble, “don’t say anything to her, or let her know that you notice anything. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
“I didn’t, Jack. I just helped all I could, and stayed where she could call me.”
“That’s a good girl; you’re getting to be a great help to us,” tightening his grasp on her brown, plump little hand.
Fortunately René had a silly fit at the table, and kept them all laughing in spite of themselves; so the meal passed off without any constraint or self-consciousness. After the children were in bed, and the cabin in order for the night, Jack drew Desiré out on the doorstep, and, sitting down, beside her, put his arm around her.
“Now
