Poor Pam! It was really hard to have succeeded so far to fail at this point. She trembled with anger as she stuffed dry kindlings into the stove, and listened to the roaring of the flames up the rusty old stove-pipe. But it was horrid to feel angry on such an occasion; indeed, it seemed almost like an insult to Sophy to give way to such bad temper just now, and Pam fought with might and main to get calm control of herself, the while she plied her fire with sticks.
Her face was hot and red, her hands were dirty, and even her frock had some smudges, when the Irishman who had driven Janey Robinson and her lame sister to the wedding came in from the barn, and took the work out of her hands. He declared that he was a first-rate hand at making fires burn on all occasions, and that nothing would make him happier than to get those kettles to boil. Pam yielded her task thankfully enough, and was turning to wash her hands before going back to the company when the Irishman said:
“There was an old man came a-creeping round here a while ago, and he was after asking if the young lady were to be seen, and I tould him that if it was yourself he was after wanting to see, he would have to be waiting until the wedding was over. He was moighty curious to know whose wedding it would be, and when I had tould all I knew, and a little more, he said that he would be after resting himself in the shade of the trees, until such time as you might find it convenient to see him.”
Pam turned with a jerk, her heart beating so hard that it seemed to her the Irishman must hear it.
“An old man, did you say? Where, oh where has he gone?”
“He said that he would be resting in the shade away out beyant,” and the Irishman, whose name was Riley O’Sheen, flung his hand out in a vague direction of the forest.
It was her grandfather, of course! That was Pam’s first thought, and her second was that he was afraid to enter his own house because of the wedding crowd, and all the bustle that was on hand. She must go and find him, and bring him in to join in the feast! Oh, this tiresome Irishman, why had he not come before to let her know she was wanted?
“Go, find Miss Gittins or Mrs. Buckle, and ask one of them to make the coffee for me, and to begin the meal if I am not back. I must go to find my grandfather, and bring him here as quickly as I can!” Pam was wildly excited. She remembered the rustling that she had heard in the undergrowth, and how she had fancied she saw a face poked out. Could that have been the old man, come to reconnoitre before he ventured back to his home? Then came the maddening wonder as to what it was that had kept him away so long, and why he seemed afraid to come back.
She ran swiftly across the narrow strip of pasture, and plunged in among the trees.
“Grandfather, Grandfather, where are you?” She was sending her voice out in a shout, for she argued he might be hard of hearing, and oh, she must make him understand that she wanted him to come. The Irishman had said that he was going to rest in the shade over there, but that was surely foolish, when there was shade in plenty under the trees which stood almost close to the house.