“Wish you had been five minutes earlier,” said the engineer, getting quickly into the front seat. “That was my sister.”
“Oh! has she come?” cried Janice.
“She’s stopping over at Judge Slater’s. She went to school with a couple of the Slater girls. But this afternoon she drove over to Polktown and went to the Lake View Inn to arrange for rooms for us both. She is determined to be with me while I am building these bridges. And of course I’ll be glad to have her with me.” But Frank laughed rather ruefully.
“She doesn’t begin to know what she’s up against,” the young man went on. “She has some idea of playing the Lady Bountiful and the Chatelaine of the Castle, rolled into one. Speaks of the natives of these parts as ‘the peasantry.’ You know,” and Frank chuckled, “that she’s going to get in awfully bad with some of the people about Polktown if she begins that way.”
“But why don’t you explain to her?” asked Janice, in some wonder, as well as consternation. Frank seemed so sensible himself that it was hard to believe he could have a sister who would not know better. Yet come to think of it, there was an air about Frank that suggested he was secretly laughing at the simple folk of Polktown.
“Oh, you couldn’t explain anything to Annette,” the young engineer said, with some disgust. “No more than you could to Aunt Lettie. You see, Annette lived with Aunt Lettie Buchanan. Auntie left her what money she had when she died. That is what makes my sister so blessed independent now. I’m not sure but that little wad of money has half spoiled Annette.
“But I guess it’s only one of the things that makes her silly. You’ll see yourself, Miss Janice, when you meet her, that going to that fancy private school and having too much money to spend, have turned her head. I wish she were more like you.”
“Are you sure you know me well enough to wish your sister were like me?” asked Janice, lightly.
“Mart is always singing your praises,” said Frank Bowman, with a clearing-up smile, “so I feel that I ought to know you pretty well. And I expect Annette is all right, too; only Aunt Lettie’s influence, and her association with foolish girls at school, is telling on her now.
“You see, our Aunt Lettie was on the stage. She married afterward an old gentleman, who died very soon after the marriage and left her some property—more than enough to keep her for the rest of her life.