Another six weeks or more lay ahead before the formal opening of the Eastern schools. What excuse could she offer for her own determination to leave home at once? This, for reasons she would not confess even to herself, she was passionately anxious to do.
Dinner was ended and the family had assembled in the drawing-room.
As usual, Lina immediately picked up a book and dropped down into a big chair, becoming oblivious of every one and everything else.
Via stood with her hand in her stepmother's listening to extracts from a letter she had received from her son, Jimmie. He had become Via's devoted friend in the year he had spent at the Rainbow Lodge before his mother's marriage to her former guardian and friend.
A small gray kitten occupied Eda's attention. She had the habit of devotedly cherishing an odd pet of some kind. At present the family rejoiced that her latest fancy was so normal and so little trouble. At various times she had adored a sick calf, a colt with a broken leg, a baby fox.
Jeanette was glad to see her father ignore the others and cross over the large room to stand alone by the window. Apparently he was looking out at the sunset closing down on the August day.
As she reached his side and slipped her hand inside his arm in her former affectionate fashion, she saw at once that he was not paying the slightest attention to the landscape but was absorbed in some thought of his own.
He appeared troubled and unlike himself. Jeanette gave his arm a little squeeze, at the same time drawing him away.
"Come out into the yard, father, I want to talk to you. Of late we have been so little together alone."
"Partly your fault, Jeanette. Whenever I have asked you to ride with me over the place in our old fashion you have refused. I realize you were busy making ready for the great contest. Why do you never wear your prize? The Swastika will bring you good luck."