There was no end of guesses that summer, I think bets as well, as to which of the girls would capture Dan Hayne. Miss Garnier held her head very high. Peggy was daring and lawless. She had no end of admirers and the young fellows almost fought for her. But she had some art to keep them from coming to blows. They always had a good time where she was, and a dull time without her.
I had two staunch friends that I dealt around to the girls I liked the best—Homer and Ben Hayne. I was too young to think of lovers. They were both very good to me. Homer was doing finely and his father was proud of him. Building was no high art in those days, but Homer possessed a certain attractive ingenuity. He could make a closet that had an ornamental air. He could put up a shelf and tack a bit of moulding on it and it set off the corner or the vacant space. He made an ingenious chair held by strong oak pins, that you could let down and transform into a bed. He designed such dainty mouldings with his array of beading planes. His charm was that he finished everything so exquisitely.
He had his heart set on making money. He meant to be "well to do." What a small sum then seemed to be a fortune. Father liked him very much and often advised him.
Ben had less originality and aim. On the booky side we agreed very well, but he had not the breadth nor quickness of Norman. When I bade him pause at some delightful thought that one wanted to linger over he would glance up with a smile of unreasoning obedience. Everything I did and said was just right. He was a nice, steady, business fellow, but Mr. Harris admitted that Norman was worth two of him.
Mrs. Hayne was always sweet and motherly to me, but she was growing stouter and less energetic, though she kept her passion for cooking.
"If I had you down to the hotel!" Clement Ward used to say. "Though I d'now, you cook so all fired tasty an' temptin' that I might be et out of house an' home afore I knew jest what was the matter. There's no one in fifty mile that can give jest the flavoracity to victuals that you do. When I've et a meal here the taste stays in my mouth fer days. An sech pie crust!"
"Well, I've been cooking for men and boys all my life, afore I was married and since. An' Dan an' his father are powerful eaters. So 'twould be a poor story if I couldn't hit it jest right."
There was always plenty to cook, meat and game and several fine kinds of fish.
Then the day when the mail steamer came in was beginning to be one of expectation. I did not care for the ones that came down the lake, though they often brought valuable mail, but this came from the East. I had looked for a letter such a long while, it seemed to me, and early as I was the long line appalled me.
"You're John Gaynor's little girl!" said a friendly voice as I was peering about. "Come here, I'll make a little room, and he thrust out his arm, drawing me into the line just before him. "Father got any folks in York State?"