Some of the older girls had had a little schooling; but it was a long way to Polktown and the district school was almost as far in the opposite direction. Two of Virginia’s older sisters were out at service; the family spoke of it in whispers as a misfortune and disgrace. Mrs. Trimmins told Janice:
“There’s a lady over yonder likes our Phoebe Ann so much she ’vited her t’ come an’ stop awhile. ’Course Phoebe Ann helps the lady; she couldn’t do no less when the lady’s so kind t’ her. An’ ’Mandy, she’s stoppin’ with Mrs. Jedge Wright in Middletown. There’s another gal there, an’ they hev right good times goin’ t’ pitcher shows, an’ dances, an’ sech. Makes it nice fo’ ’Mandy, fo’ she’s of a right lively disposition.”
“’Mandy and Phoebe Ann might bring us young’uns home some of the good times they’re havin’,” Virginia confessed to Janice. “Bet if I ever git my paws on any money I’ll git maw a new gownd an’ dress the baby up fine. Pappy kyan’t more’n airn enough to feed us.”
“Pappy,” Janice seldom, if ever, saw. He was a long, lean, slow-moving man, and whether Mrs. Scattergood’s opinion of his laziness was a just one or not, he was seldom loafing about the cabin when Janice stopped there.
The girl was satisfied for the time being regarding the Trimminses, for she had established an unbreakable alliance with Virginia, and the mother endured her for the baby’s sake. Virginia allowed herself to be brought to the meeting of the Girls’ Guild. After she had been there under Janice’s protection two or three times, she was willing to bring her two sisters, Mayrie and Elsie. Virginia dominated them just as she did the younger fry of the Trimmins household; they had to do whatever the black-haired sister said.
The winter so far had been an open one. The snow held off, to the amazement of “the oldest inhabitant”; but it was very cold and Janice found the run back and forth to the seminary so trying that she did not always come home the long way by the Trimmins cabin. Besides, Elder Concannon never had a word for her now, only a scowl and a black look when she passed him. The whole town had talked about his complaint against Janice, and had not talked in his favor.
Indeed, Janice found herself quite a heroine after the hearing before the Justice of the Peace; and the way people spoke to her about it made her feel very uncomfortable. They seemed to think that she had done some wonderful thing in getting the Trimmins’ baby to Dr. Poole’s in time to save the poor little fellow’s life. She felt that anybody in her place would have done the same, of course!
She did not realize that her desire to “do something” had brought her into the position where she could help the unfortunate baby. Daddy’s advice to her bore fruit most unexpectedly. She had become his “do something girl” in very truth.
“Oh, if only I could do something for Daddy,” Janice said to herself. Another letter had come from Mexico, and matters down there were no better. She had written, asking her father if it wouldn’t be best for him to come home and he had replied that it was his duty to stick to his post. The Mexican authorities were getting very ugly, and the guards at the mine had been increased. But Broxton Day wrote that she must not worry. As if she could help it!
“I’d go down there myself, if it would do any good,” Janice confided to Marty.