But the mistress refused to look back even though the temptation to see
Sary's face was great!
"Oh, Mis' Brewster! How kin you-all say that—so soon after Bill's funeral, an' the expenses not all paid yit!" howled Sary, rushing to the door that her mistress might hear her lament.
But the call fell upon deaf ears. Miss Brewster deigned no reply, so Sary sat down heavily upon a strong kitchen chair and took thought for herself. How did Miss Brewster guess her half-formed idea? Had she discovered in some uncanny manner, that Sary had slyly removed Bill's post-card photograph from her Bible and cremated it that she might feel freer to accept a second proposal of marriage—if it came?
"She coulden' hev foun' that out, cuz Ah locked th' box sence then. She mus' be one of them brain-readers by nature, Ah rickon, an' she jes' reads me like a book!"
Never dreaming of the turbulence created in Sary's mind by her casual remark, about dyspepsia and love, Mrs. Brewster took her chair at the table. Immediately after giving thanks, the host stood up to carve the roast. Then, to the surprise of all present, it was seen that the rancher had donned his second-best black coat and had taken the trouble to wear cuffs and a starched collar.
Trying to avoid Polly's eyes, Mrs. Brewster met the gaze of Anne. But the two understood and exchanged a fleeting glance of satisfaction and approval.
"Well, girls, did you visit Rainbow Cliffs—and how did you like them?" asked Mr. Brewster, having finished the carving.
"Oh, they are just wonderful!" declared Eleanor.
"I hear they are very valuable," remarked Barbara.
Mr. Brewster sent her a sharp glance and then frowned at Polly. "Ah
never give that a thought. There they've stood for ages before Sam
Brewster saw them, and Ah reckon there they'll stand for ages after Sam
Brewster is dead and forgotten!"