Charles was at once solicitous and Jenny half rebukeful. “Oh, Lenora. I do hope you aren’t overtired,” they both said in different ways.
Lenora curled down among the pillows that she always had with her. “Indeed not! I’ll be well enough to travel home one week from today,” she assured her brother. “Now do go, everybody, and let me sleep.” And so, after bidding good-bye to Jenny and Lenora in a far more friendly manner than her wont, Gwyn, her heart again singing a joyous song she could not understand, walked along the cliff trail, a young giant at her side. “He’s only the son of a Dakota rancher,” a thought tried to whisper to Gwyn. “What care I?” was her retort as she flashed a smile of good comradeship up at the young man, who, she found, was watching her with unmistakable admiration in his eyes.
“It’s good to be alive this beautiful day, isn’t it?” was all that he said.
When Charles returned to the farm, he found Lenora still in the hammock awakening from a most refreshing nap. She held out a hand and took it lovingly as he sat on one of the chairs that had been about the rustic table. Lenora spoke in a low voice. “Jenny isn’t near, is she, brother?” she inquired.
“Nowhere in sight Why? Shall I call her?”
The girl shook her head. “I wanted to ask you a question and I didn’t wish her to hear.” Charles was puzzled; then troubled to know how to answer when he heard Lenora’s question: “Have you noticed the close resemblance between Jenny and Harold’s sister? They might almost be twins if Gwynette were not two years the older. I think it is simply amazing. Their profiles are startlingly similar.”
“Yes, I think I noticed the resemblance at once.” Charles was glad to be able to add, “Here comes Harold!” Excusing himself, he ran lightly across the grass to meet his friend. In a low voice he explained that his sister had discovered the resemblance and was amazed at it. His listener said: “Suppose we let her into the secret. Perhaps she can help us to induce Gwyn and Jenny at least to like each other.” Harold was sure that his mother would not mind, as she had said she would trust everything to his judgment. “I will carry the chairs in. That will leave you alone to explain as you think best,” he concluded after a merry greeting to the girl in the hammock. Harold took three of the chairs and went back to the kitchen. Charles sat again in the fourth chair and took his sister’s hand. “Dear girl,” he said, “I have received permission from Harold to share with you a secret which is of a very serious nature.” Lenora glanced up puzzled and interested.
Then, very simply, Charles told the whole story. The girl’s first comment was, “Poor Gwyn! She has had a most unfortunate bringing up, and, if she were now to learn the truth, it would crush her. She might run away and do something desperate.”
“That is just what Harold fears, and so he has asked his mother to permit him to have two weeks to think over what would be best to do. He feels encouraged for Gwynette has twice been over here quite of her own free will.”
But Lenora shook her head. “There is nothing really encouraging about that, for she did not come to be with Jenny. She came because she likes you.”