She raised her stick. But before she could lay it across Elinor’s back the young girl seized it with both hands, wrenched it from her and pitched it into the lake. Then she burst into tears.
Mrs. Paxton-Steele sat down on a bench and folded her hands in her lap. “Don’t cry, child,” she said as calmly as if a moment before a tornado of rage had not almost swept both of them off their feet. “But of course all women must cry,” she added. “I was curious to see if you would keep your word, which I am delighted to see you did. I shall have no sticks left if this keeps up. Dear, dear, dear!”
“But you had no right to experiment with me like that,” sobbed Elinor. “I’m not one of your unfortunate grandchildren.”
Mrs. Paxton-Steele laughed good-humoredly.
“I haven’t enjoyed myself so much in years,” she said. “It’s a dangerous thing, my dear, for a rich old woman to be bored and disappointed, that is, if she has a bundle of sticks nearby. But of course I had no intention of striking you, just now. I should have had the whole Duffy clan on my back in a moment if I had, and your little peacock chaperone in the bargain. It was only an experiment, as you say. So I am a vain, cruel, stupid bully, am I?”
Elinor hung her head. She was ashamed of her outbreak now that calm was restored. She felt that Mrs. Paxton-Steele was really just a big tease; that her grandchildren had never understood her and perhaps—perhaps. A notion had come into Elinor’s head. Might it not be that she was too deep for any of them to fathom? For just one instant Elinor had caught a glimpse into this strange woman’s mind, and now she was more than ever bent on the original object of the walk which had taken its course downward toward the water’s edge.
“Why didn’t you add that I was an old cat playing with a harmless little mouse?” her eccentric companion added leaning on the young girl’s shoulder almost affectionately.
“Because I didn’t feel like a helpless mouse,” returned Elinor, dabbing her eyes with her pocket handkerchief to remove the last traces of tears from them.
“But where are you bound for now, Elinor Butler?”
“Wouldn’t you like to take a motor-boat ride? We have a splendid engineer. He is reliable and knows the engine thoroughly.”