"Whew! Whoever she is she makes my eyes ache; and what a picture for father to see, the first at his new threshold!"
Yet apparently without noticing anything unpleasing, Mr. Kaye assisted his wife from the carryall and walked with her to where the stranger still sat and rocked. She did not rise at their approach, and returned the courteous greeting of the master and mistress of the house with the barest of nods.
"How do? I come to pay a call."
But not upon them. For the first time in their lives the artist and his lovely wife were relegated by this self-possessed young person to the land of "old folks," in whom she felt no interest.
With a twinkle in his eye that met an answering one in hers, the gentleman handed Mrs. Kaye on toward the eager Cleena, and turned to his children:—
"My dears, a visitor for you, I think."
So Amy and Hallam rode up and dismounted, while the former went forward slowly, smiling a welcome, yet feeling oddly disconcerted before this unknown girl.
"I'm Gwendolyn Jones. Ma said it wasn't no more 'n friendly to come an' call. I don't have no time 'cept Sunday an' Saturday-half. Then I generally go to Wallburg to do my shopping. It's such a trouble, shopping is, ain't it?"
"I don't know. I never did any," answered Amy, simply. She was amused by Gwendolyn, but regretful that the visit had been timed just then. She had counted upon showing the interior of the new home to her parents, with all the best features accented, and now she must leave them to see things for themselves. Besides, she was conscious that she had herself been noticed only in the slightest degree by this maiden whose big brown eyes were fixed upon Hallam with a steady gaze that annoyed him exceedingly. He was always more conscious of his lameness in the presence of a stranger, and the people he had met, heretofore, had been so well bred that beyond the first involuntary surprise at his condition they had ignored it entirely.
To his amazement Gwendolyn exclaimed:—