“It’s going to come all right with him next term,” Dick said to Mrs. Summers. “All the fellows in the country who know him at all realize what a brick he’s been, staying right here and looking his trouble in the face and helping the Paces out the way he did. Why, some of the men wanted him to change his name when it turned out that Disbrow was such a thief, but he wouldn’t do it. He said he’d promised his dad—he will call him that—to stick to him, and that it wouldn’t be keeping his word to take another name. He said Disbrow was as good a name as any if he made it good. So he’ll be given a hearty reception when he comes back to Rutherford. I’ve frozen onto the room next to mine there at the Ballenger dormitories and I’m going to get the prefect to put him in there. The fellows shall see that he and I are friends, anyway. I don’t know as that counts for such a tremendous lot, but I’ll let it stand for all it will.”
“Bless you,” said Mrs. Summers, turning her bright smile on the lad. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that my Sam is going to be happy. As you know, he’s been living with us the past few months, and never, never did I see a boy who tried harder to do what was right. But, dear me, that isn’t all. I’ve known good folk who almost wore me out. But Sam is charming. Now that he’s happy once more he’s the very life of the place, and that’s saying a good deal of a house where my husband lives. Besides, Jonathan rather keeps things going. Altogether, I suppose we’re the noisiest and the happiest lot in Lee.”
“I dare say you are,” smiled the youth admiringly. “I know Sam’s a wonder at keeping things humming. He’s been like that from the time he was a little boy, and I never could make out how such a live one could belong to a sour, down-in-the-mouth family like the Disbrows. It was quite a relief to me when I found he wasn’t really related to them after all, but had just been dropped in the nest, so to speak.”
“It was a relief to everyone who cared for him, I imagine,” Mrs. Summers said. “But am I not keeping you here, Dick, away from the young people?”
“I wouldn’t stay here if I didn’t want to, Mrs. Summers,” Dick replied gallantly. “You see I don’t know these girls very well, but Sam wanted me to come up with him, and Azalea was good enough to say she’d love to have me, so of course I came. I’ve often ridden by the McBirneys and thought what a delightful little place it was, but I didn’t suppose I’d ever be coming to a birthday party here.”
“Well, naturally you wouldn’t have supposed it. There are you in your fine, handsome home, the banker’s son, all of your paths running in a different direction from those of the McBirneys, yet I doubt if ever in your life you visited a house where there was more real courtesy and hospitality than there is here.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that, Mrs. Summers. And then Azalea—isn’t she a wonder? She fascinates everybody. As my mother was saying this morning, if ever there was a girl who would make you forget all about social distinction and just join in on a happy human basis to have a good time—all hands ’round—that person is Azalea. Of course, as mother reminded me, Azalea came from as cultivated a family as ever lived in this district, although she is now to all intents the daughter of these mountain people.”
“It’s a privilege,” said Barbara Summers, “to live with Mrs. McBirney, and anyone who has the sense to get the most out of it will grow up to be good and patient and wise.”
Perhaps these virtues were not the ones which most appealed to Dick Heller at that period of his life, but however that may be, he could not keep his eyes off the mountain girl. He could see her in her white, hand-wrought frock, her hair blown about her dark face, flashing here and there with her friends. He saw her run to serve some one who was merely driving along the road—for the road over Tennyson Mountain to Lee ran quite through the McBirney yard, as has been said before. It was evident that the McBirney’s were asking everyone who passed to congratulate them on their adopted daughter’s fifteenth birthday, and in return they were served with the drink of sweetened limes and the honey cake which Ma McBirney had prepared for the occasion.
And there was Pa McBirney in his white linen clothes—they had been his father’s—talking with Mr. Carson, in his smart white flannels; and Miss Adnah and Miss Zillah in new figured lawns, carrying their old fringed parasols bought years before on a great occasion at Charleston; and near them was Mrs. Kitchell with the younger children, brown and strong, and quite in the spirit of the occasion; and Hi and Jim were putting boards on saw horses, ready for the feast; and Carin and Annie Laurie were running down the road to welcome some freshly arrived guests.