It was a superb September morning, warm and still. The windows of the dining room were open as they sat at breakfast, and Cousin Winnie saw white butterflies out in the neat little garden. Most lovely perfumes drifted in, fresh-cut grass and pine needles, and the very last roses; and from the kitchen came another current, warmer, like a Gulf Stream, and less romantic, but beautiful, made of the aromas of pancakes, maple sirup, bacon, and coffee.
The sun shone in; everything was good, and right, and Cousin Winnie was happy. Her mail, too, was satisfactory. She had a letter from a jealous and spiteful cousin in California, who insinuated that Cousin Ronald was growing old, and falling prey to certain unscrupulous relatives.
The injustice of this really flattered Cousin Winnie. Nobody could have been less designing than she. The arrangement was entirely of Cousin Ronald’s making; he had sought them out, in their cozy little flat in New York, where they had managed well enough with the aid of Lucy’s salary as an assistant librarian.
They had been glad to come, but it was nothing like so dazzling a situation as the spiteful cousin in California imagined. The financial compensation was very modest. Very! Cousin Ronald was no spendthrift.
And there was a great deal of work to be done in this cottage which was so charmingly old fashioned. Still, Cousin Winnie was glad she had come, because, for all Cousin Ronald’s distinction, his literary attainments, she thought he was pathetic. She glanced up from the spiteful cousin’s letter, to enjoy the heart-warming spectacle of the poor man eating buckwheat cakes.
But he was not eating at all. He was staring before him with unseeing eyes.
“Is anything the matter, Cousin Ronald?” she asked, anxiously.
“Er—no, no,” he answered. “That is—nothing wrong with this most excellent breakfast, my dear Winnie. But—er—but—er—”
“Did you say ‘butter,’ Ronald?”
“No, no, thank you. I have received a letter. I fear I must ask you to excuse me, Winnie.” He arose. “I—I am perturbed!” he added. “I must be alone for a time.”