CHAPTER XIII
SUSPICION
“Of course we can get supper for everyone,” declared Mrs. Lewis, cordially, when Cora spoke of the determination of the boys to come down upon the Mote for tea. “We have plenty of food.”
“You are a wonder, Mrs. Lewis,” declared Cora. “You always have a full larder. I don’t see where it comes from, for you don’t even use up the budget.”
“It’s a matter of experience,” answered Mrs. Lewis. “When one has to do things, my dear, one learns how. I am so glad we have macaroni cooked. Boys love big, steaming dishes.”
Cora gave a sigh of relief. What a blessing Mrs. Lewis had proven to be! After finding themselves shut out of their house by a trick of the land agents she and her daughter had taken up a permanent residence in the girls’ camp. Freda, in spite of all opposition, had installed herself as “maid.” She insisted on waiting on the table, and attending to rooms, and helping her mother generally, although the girls wanted her to be one of them. Everyone declared that her mother, with her wonderful management and activity, more than made up for Freda being a visitor at the Mote.
Freda seemed happier now than when she shared the little cottage with her mother, but this was easily understood. Under the new arrangement Mrs. Lewis was earning an honest and comfortable living, and Freda was more than willing to assist her in every way possible. Before, they had lived in constant dread of the land agents putting them out of their home. Even the fact that the sign “For Sale” had been placed on the cottage did not seem so unbearable, for the girls and boys had insisted that that was only a “scare” on the part of the land agents, and that while the town constable would not interfere to the extent of taking down the sign, he had promised to investigate the rights of those who put it up.
But town constables are slow and timid when strangers, with big-brimmed hats, and plenty of cigars, come from the city, and order papers signed at so much per sign—for the constable.
The boys had come, and the supper was almost ready. Lottie looked as pretty and as well as ever, for she had dressed in a chic pink frock, and with a pink snood binding her brow looked as fresh as though she had just come from the hands of a beauty specialist. After all, such vigorous treatment and baths of spray as the girls had encountered all that afternoon amounted to just that—beauty treatment; and Lottie was not the only one whose cheeks glowed, and in whose eyes shone the light that comes only from youth and health.