“I don’t believe so,” returned Susan doubtfully. “Miss Liza doesn’t live alone now. She lives with her niece, Miss Lunette. And Miss Lunette can’t bear the tiniest bit of noise. That’s why we brought our slippers. We have to put them on the minute we get there, and walk on tiptoe, and just whisper.” And Susan’s voice sank mysteriously as she related their programme for the day.
Phil looked downcast. The prospect of whispering and walking on tiptoe was not in the least pleasing to him.
“Is Miss Lunette sick?” he inquired soberly.
“Oh, yes,” Susan assured him, “she is. I heard Grandmother and Miss Liza talking. No one knows just what is the matter with her, but she must have good things to eat, and some one to wait on her, and not one bit of noise. And I heard Grandmother and Grandfather talking, too,” went on the “little pitcher.” “Grandmother said, ‘Liza’s a saint on earth,’ and Grandfather said, ‘In my opinion, all Miss Lunette needs is a little hard work!’ I don’t know just what they meant. But, anyway, we are going to fill our pails with currants and raspberries. Miss Liza said so.”
Phil brightened for a moment, but his face clouded again and he stopped in the road.
“Can’t we shout before we get there, Susan?” he asked plaintively. “I feel just like shouting to-day.”
“I do, too,” agreed Susan willingly. “Let’s shout now where there is no one to stop us.” And putting down their bundles so that they might swing their arms as well, the children opened their mouths and shouted until they could shout no more.
On either side of the road lay a dense little wood. The noise of the shouting woke the echoes and startled the birds who rose in the air with a whirr of wings and then settled down again. There was the crackling of underbrush and the rustle of leaves, but neither of the children saw a cautious little figure, with brown face and tumbled black hair, peering at them from behind a tree. His hungry eyes traveled to their pails and stopped there.
“I’ll race you!” shouted Phil suddenly. And he was off, with Susan close behind, their empty pails swinging as they ran.
The little brown figure turned and disappeared among the tree-trunks.