Gwyn arose. “I shall not, Mother, and to prove it, I shall go this afternoon to call upon the Warners.”
CHAPTER XXXV.
A BIRTHDAY CAKE
Miss Dearborn had returned to Hillcrest, and with her were a small girl and boy, the children of her dear college friend, who, with her baby, had been taken from this world. Jenny, with Lenora, had gone that afternoon to see her and had learned that Miss Dearborn was to make a home for the little ones for a year, during which time their father was to tour the world, then he would return and make a home for them himself. Neither Miss Dearborn nor Jenny spoke their thoughts, but oh, how the girl hoped that there would then be a happy ending to Miss Dearborn’s long years of sacrifice. If the young woman were thinking of this, her next remark did not suggest it. “Jenny, dear, we will have three classes in our little school next year to suit the ages of my three pupils.”
Then it was that Lenora said impulsively, “How I do wish, Miss Dearborn, that you could take still another pupil. My father and brother think best to have me spend the winter in California. Our Dakota storms are so severe. I am to live with the Warners just as I have been doing this past two months.” Miss Dearborn’s reply was enthusiastic and sincere: “Splendid! That will make our little school complete. I know how Jenny will enjoy your companionship. She has often told me that if she had had the choosing of a sister, she would have been just like you.”
Lenora glanced quickly at the speaker, wondering if Miss Dearborn knew who Jenny’s real sister was, but just then the little Austin girl ran to her “auntie” with a doll’s sash to be tied, and the subject was changed.
On that ride home behind Dobbin, Lenora wondered if Jenny would ever learn that Gwyn was her real sister. Charles had confided in her, and so she knew that in the autumn Gwynette would be her sister by marriage and that would draw Jenny and Lenora closer than ever. How she wished that she could tell Jenny everything she knew, but she had promised that she would not. When the girls returned home they found Susan Warner much excited about something. Gwynette had been over to call, actually to call, and she had remained on the side porch visiting with Grandma Sue even when she had learned that Jenny and Lenora had driven to Miss Dearborn’s.
“More’n that, she left an invite for all of us to come to a party Mrs. Poindexter-Jones is givin’ on Charles’ birthday. Gwyn said she hoped I’d make the chocolate cake with twenty-one layers like Harold wanted, just the same, but we’d have the party over to the big house.”
Jenny, at first, looked disappointed. Then her expression changed to one of delight. Clasping her hands, she cried, “Oh, Grandma Sue, that will be a real party, won’t it, and I can wear the beautiful new dress Lenora has given me. I was afraid I never, never would have a chance to wear it.”
The old woman nodded. Then she confided: “Thar’s some queer change has come over Gwynette Poindexter-Jones, and I’ll say this much for her, she’s a whole sight nicer’n she was, for it, whatever ’tis. I reckon her ma’s glad. I cal’late, on the whole, she’s been sort o’ disappointed in her.”
Then Jenny astonished them by saying: “Gwyn is a beautiful girl. No one knows how I want her to love me.” Susan Warner looked up almost suspiciously from the peas that she was shelling. That was a queer thing for Jenny to say, and even after the girls had gone indoors, that Lenora might rest, Susan Warner thought over and over again, now of the yearning tone in which Jenny had spoken, and then of the words, “No one knows how I want her to love me.” What could it mean? There wasn’t any possible way for Jenny to know that she and Gwyn were sisters. Tears sprang to Susan’s eyes unbidden. “If she ever learns that, she’ll have to know Si and me ain’t her grandparents.” Then the old woman rebuked her selfishness. “I reckon Si was right when he said ’twouldn’t make a mite o’ difference in Jenny’s carin’ for us. Si said nothing could.” But her hands shook when, a few moments later, she dumped the shelled peas into the pot of bubbling water that was waiting to receive them. Taking up one corner of her apron, she wiped her eyes. Jenny had entered the kitchen. At once her strong young arms were about the old woman, and there was sweet assurance in her words: “Grandma Sue, I love you.” Then, after pressing her fresh young cheek for a long, silent moment against the one that was softly wrinkled, the girl held the old woman at arm’s length as she joyfully cried, “Oh, Grandma Sue, isn’t it wonderful, wonderful, that you and Grandpa Si and Lenora and I are going to a real party, the very first one that I have ever attended?”