“Lincum said you were ‘mighty porely,’� said Anne. “And so we brought you some soup and rolls.�
“But you don’t deserve them,� said Patsy; “for you aren’t sick.�
“Lawsy, honey! I’ve been havin’ sech a misery in my back I couldn’t lay still, neithermore move,� whined Louviny. “Uh, it was turrible, turrible! I got a little easement just now, an’ I crope out o’ bed to clean up de house.�
“Here are the soup and rolls,� Patsy said shortly, and she turned away.
“Wasn’t it queer the way Louviny was talking?� Anne said presently. “It sounds so—so impertinent.�
“Um, h’m,� agreed Patsy. “She’s a trifling thing, and made up that excuse about being sick, to keep from working for mother.�
“She’s a silly thing!� laughed Anne. “Where’d she expect to get six silk dresses? Oh, Patsy! Let’s go by Larkland and help Cousin Mayo feed the pigeons.�
This was evidently their day for appearing where they were not expected or wanted. As they went up the walk, they saw, through the open front door, two men in the hall—Cousin Mayo and a stranger, a tall, fair, youngish man. They had only a glimpse of him, however, for Cousin Mayo opened the parlor door, ushered him in, and shut the door. Then Mr. Osborne came forward to greet the girls, went with them into the sitting room, and looked about for Cousin Polly. He did not mention the guest shut up in the parlor, and the girls—for the first time at Larkland—felt themselves in the way. They soon started home, wondering who the stranger was.
“Oh, I know; I’m sure I know,� Anne exclaimed. “It’s Kuno Kleist, Cousin Mayo’s German friend. Fair and light-haired; he’s a real German.�
“But what would he be doing here?� asked Patsy.