“It’s just that I seem pulled so many ways at once, Mrs. Lorraine,” Anna said. “Really, I ought not to be at Miss Penny’s. With Rusty at college, I ought to be at home. Ma and pa need a daughter there the worst way. I get over all I can, but they’re so glad to see me and so sorry to have me go just across the street that it breaks my heart. But someone has to be with Miss Penny. She was goodness itself to Rusty and to the whole family, and I love her as if she were my favorite aunt of all and just love to be with her. And now there’s Mrs. Langley. She’s queer. Dick’s hatband had nothing on her when it comes to being odd. And yet I take to her and would enjoy sort of mothering her if it didn’t take me away from Miss Penny and my own family. And then again, there’s Mr. Langley.”
On a sudden, tears filled the girl’s eyes. But she smiled through them.
“It’s rum to be so popular, isn’t it Alice?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you think I was Brother Atlas or Father Time? The fact is, I’m only the other Miller girl trying to pretend I’m Charley-on-the-spot.”
Mrs. Lorraine bent and kissed her. “You are a dear, absurd, unselfish child!” she cried warmly. “And if ever there’s anything Alice or I can do to help you out in any way, you must come straight to us. Mustn’t she, Alice?”
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Alice with shining eyes, and coming to her mother kissed her shyly.
Both girls would have thought that Mrs. Lorraine had unbent as far as possible. But she was to go yet further. On the afternoon of the first day Alice spent with her, Miss Penny had Frank Miller drive her over to Farleigh with the fat pony. She returned with Mrs. Lorraine, whom she had persuaded to visit her as long as Alice stayed. Mrs. Lorraine was as much surprised as her daughter, but somehow, there was no resisting Miss Penny.
She expected to spend the greater part of her time in her chamber, but she did no such thing though she was left free. The housework was inconsiderable. Alice, who took to it strangely, loved to help Miss Penny, who wasn’t willing to relinquish the whole. But Mrs. Lorraine found herself wishing to be near the centre of things in the kitchen or living-room and drifted thither before the first forenoon was over. It seemed to her that the very thing her sore heart and worn nerves had craved was to bask in the homely warmth of this simple, cosy household. For the first day she sat in an arm chair with Silvertoes, who had been included in the invitation, in her lap. But on the second, she felt, after another wonderful night, so much alive that she wished to be active. She said to Miss Penny that she should like to learn to cook—to complete an education in domestic matters begun in her childhood and interrupted by the receipt of a large inheritance which drove her family off the farm. Wherefore, at Miss Penny’s suggestion, Alice was sent off nutting, and the two women had a long, happy morning together.
An inborn taste for the domestic and a really good foundation made Mrs. Lorraine a still readier pupil than her daughter had been. Miss Penny’s surprise at her skill drew forth a longer account of Mrs. Lorraine’s early life. Miss Penny spoke of her own girlhood and other forgotten details came back to her guest. And when Alice returned at noon of the second day, she could scarcely credit what she saw and felt. Her mother and Miss Penny appeared to be warm friends.
Anna had already taught Alice to love the out-of-doors, and though it was less pleasant alone, she took advantage of her opportunity and remained out all that she could, believing that her mother and Miss Penny’s friendship would progress the more rapidly in her absence. Mr. Langley called one day, and Mrs. Lorraine saw him and liked him. She told her daughter what he had said of Richard Cartwright, the man who had built their cottage, and expressed apprehension that he might find a bare-looking place when he should call. Whereupon it came to Alice that she might do something to make it look more attractive before they returned to it.
She went over next day. As she sauntered towards Farleigh, she thought of the man who had died before he had attained his heart’s desire. She did not think of him as Reuben’s father except to wish that everyone wouldn’t dwell so constantly upon the son as never to drop any hint to gratify her hungry, rather mournful curiosity concerning the father.