Behind the old lady the stove was dazzling black with its brilliant nickel ornaments. The tin flour sifter on the table beside her was filled with fiery reflections. The stiff white muslin curtains before the open windows made lisping, scraping noises as the wind folded them over and brushed them along the lifted panes. Mrs. Farley glanced from time to time at May, and, with dim hostility, noted the slight angular little figure seated so ill-at-ease on the rush-bottomed chair, the darkened eyes with their chronic expression of melancholy and elation, the heavy braid of flaxen hair that hung with a curious soft weight between the small stooping shoulders. Mrs. Farley found May's continual smile, her sweet relaxed lips and the large uneven white teeth that showed between, peculiarly irritating. "You want another cake, eh?" she flung out at last with an amused resigned air. Going back into the dining room, she brought a cake and presented it as though she were feeding a hungry puppy.
May, trying to be grateful, munched the cake uncomfortably. She pulled feebly at the hem of her skirt. Her grandmother made her ashamed of her legs.
Grandpapa Farley came up the walk and halted in the back doorway, bareheaded in the warm sunshine. He was in his shirt sleeves. Beads of perspiration stood on his high blank brow which might have been called noble. His big hands, smeared with the earth of the garden, hung in a helpless manner at his sides. He smiled uncomfortably at May. "Shall we send your step-mother some lettuce?"
May rose and walked out to where he waited. His expression had grown suddenly ruminant, and, as he stared away from her over the back fence, his eyes were cloudy and unseeing. "Well, May, I can't say she's done her duty by your grandmother, but she's a fine woman—fine handsome woman. Laurie was lucky to get her. She'll be able to do a lot for him." He sighed as though he were relinquishing a vision, and, glancing once more at May, became kindly aware of her again.
May had hoped that Aunt Alice would not come downstairs, but there she was behind them. Grandpapa Farley was uncomfortable if Alice came into a room when outsiders were present. He saw her now, and, with a guilty smile, told May he would go to gather his little present. He shambled down the walk. The sunshine made his bald head lustrous. There was a glinting fringe of white hair at its base.
"So it's you, May, is it? How are you? Does Madame Julia think you are safe with us now?" There was queer hostile pleasure in Aunt Alice's fat face.
May's mouth bent with its usual smiling acceptance, but she could not keep the solemn arrested look of wonder from her eyes. People said Aunt Alice was odd. There was nothing so strange in what Aunt Alice said. It was more in something she didn't say but seemed always to have meant. "I'm well." May squeezed her fingers nervously together.
Aunt Alice laid her hand on her niece's head and tilted it back. May shivered a little and her eyelids trembled against the light. "Suppose you're living the larger life? Imbibing the fine flavor of contemporary culture, are you?"
May giggled evasively and wagged her head under the heavy hand.
"Your step-mother can't stand this congenial atmosphere so she sends you. She's strong for the true, the beautiful, and the good. Developing your father's character. Teaching him to flower, is she?"