“What did you do then, father?” asked Cherry.
“The only thing I could do, my dear; I came away.” Maimie’s eyes roved from one to another, and I saw that she was deep in thought.
We wrote letters again, both to Aunt Briscoe and to Churton; but no answers came.
Jack made the next attempt. He went to “The Gables” without telling any one beforehand, and presented a sturdy front. First, he insisted on seeing Churton,—“his uncle, Mr. Hazel,” and he was informed that “Mr. Hazel was out.”
Jack did not believe the assertion, but he could not disprove it. Next, he tried hard to see Aunt Briscoe. She sent word to him that she was afraid of measles. Jack sent word to her that we had been free from measles in our house “for months.” Aunt Briscoe returned answer that she was poorly. Jack answered, through the girl, that he was very sorry, but he would not tire her or keep her long. Aunt Briscoe replied by a message that she was “engaged.” Jack sent her word that it didn’t matter; he would wait any time; might he go to the study? So at last there came a very plain message that Mrs. Briscoe refused to see her nephew, and he might go. Whereupon Jack said “Good-morning” to the servant, and walked away.
“No use staying any longer, you see,” he said, when relating to us his adventures. “One can’t exactly force one’s way in. But it is very unfortunate. The old lady has evidently taken offence at something or other.”
I looked up and saw again that thoughtful expression in Maimie’s face. She seemed lost in serious consideration.
Later in the day, when I was alone, she came to me, and said—
“Aunt Marion, what does it mean?”
“What, Maimie?” I asked; for at the moment I was thinking about Cress, not about Aunt Briscoe.