Wheat and Huckleberries Part 2

"That depends," said Kate, answering for both. "We may go up to Maxinkuckee for a little while; but what we'd like to do, what we'd like best-" she paused upon the words with a lifting of her hands and the drawing of a long ecstatic breath, "would be to make a visit at grandfather's. You can't think how he's urging us to come."

"Do you mean go to New England?" he exclaimed, sitting up straight on his bundle of straw.

"Yes, to mother's old home," said Kate. "Just think, we haven't been there since we were little girls. Mother's been trying to persuade grandfather to come out here, but he says he's too old to make the journey, and that we must come there. He has fairly set his heart on it."

"And so have the others too," said Esther. "Stella's letters have been full of it for the last six months."

"Stella's that cousin of yours who's such an artist, isn't she?" said Morton. He was looking extremely interested.

"Oh, she's an artist and everything else that's lovely," said Esther. "I don't suppose you ever saw the kind of girl that she is. She has a studio in Boston in the winters. She sent me a picture of it once, and it's perfectly charming. And only think, she's been in Europe twice-once she was studying over there. And she's seen those wonderful old places and the famous pictures, and been a part of everything that's beautiful."

"That's the sort of thing you'd like to do yourself, I suppose," said the young man, drawing a wisp of straw slowly through his fingers.

"Like it!" she cried. "To travel, to study, to see beautiful things, to hear beautiful music, and to be in touch every day with charming, cultivated people! Oh, if I had half a chance, wouldn't I take it!"

There was something very wistful in her voice as she said it, but not more wistful than the look that came into Morton Elwell's eyes at that moment. He turned them away from her face, and the rattle of the big wagon filled the silence.

"You ought to show Mort that picture of Stella you got the other day,"

said Kate, suddenly.

Esther took a letter from her pocket. "I brought it out to the farm to-day on purpose to show your aunt," she said, and she handed him a photograph which he regarded for a moment with a bewildered expression.

"Why, it looks like a picture of Greek statuary," he said; "one of the old G.o.ddesses, or something of that sort."

"That's just the way she meant to have it look," said Esther, triumphantly. "You see how artistic she is."

The young man still looked mystified. "But is her hair really white, like that?" he asked.

"Why, of course not," said Esther, in a rather disgusted tone. "She powdered it and did it in a low coil for the sake of the picture. Then she put the white folds over her shoulders to make it look like a bust against the dark background, and she had the lights and shadows arranged to give just the right effect. Isn't it exquisite?"

"I can't say I admire it," said the young man, grimly; "I'd rather see people look as if they were made of flesh and blood."

Kate laughed. She had privately expressed the same opinion herself, but she did not choose to encourage him in criticising her relatives.

"You're an insensible Philistine, Mort Elwell," she said, with a sly glance at her sister. "That's what Stella'd call you, and she knows."

The point of the taunt was lost on the young man, but he had an impression, derived from early lessons in the Sabbath School, that the Philistines were a race of heathen idolaters, and he resented the charge with spirit.

"You'd better call your cousin the Philistine," he retorted; "I'm sure I have no liking for graven images."

This was too much for Esther. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the picture from his hand and bent a look of admiration upon the shapely white head, with its cla.s.sic profile and downcast eyes, which made ample amends for the cold scrutiny to which it had just been subjected.

"It is perfectly beautiful," she said, with slow emphasis; "I don't see how you can be unappreciative."

Morton did not press his obnoxious opinion. He grew rather silent, and except for an occasional sally from Kate, conversation was at a low ebb for the rest of the way.

Meanwhile the sunset flamed and faded in the west. The evening breeze sprang up, and cool, restful shadows fell on the wide, rich landscape.

"Home at last!" cried Kate, as a bend in the road brought them suddenly upon a house of the colonial style, shaded by fine old trees, at the edge of town. "And there's mother in the doorway looking for us."

CHAPTER II

TALKING IT OVER

Mrs. Northmore was at the gate to greet her daughters when the great wagon stopped.

"We knew you would find some one to bring you home," she said, smiling up at them. "Your father was disappointed that he couldn't come for you himself, but he took our friends to the station, and then, just as he was ready to start for you, he was called to the other end of the town.

Come in, Morton," she added, turning to the young man, who was helping the girls over the wheel; "I must have a full account of the doings to-day, and it may be a one-sided report if I have only the family version of it."

"But there is only one side, Mrs. Northmore," said the young man.

"Everything went gloriously,-specially the dinner,-and everybody behaved beautifully except me. Kate'll tell you how bad I was. No, I can't stay.

There's an errand I must do before dark."

"I shan't take anybody's report against _you_, Morton, unless it's your own, and I'm not sure that I'll admit even that," said Mrs. Northmore.

It was in her eyes as well as her voice how much she liked the big brown fellow. "Well, if you must go-but come and see us soon. Don't work so hard this summer that you'll have no time for your friends."

She took an arm of each of the girls and walked with them up the gravel path between the rows of blossoming catalpas. "So the day has gone well?" she said, glancing from one to the other.

"As if you had been there yourself, mother," said Esther, and Kate added: "It's been a regular picnic. I never enjoyed a day more in my life."

In different ways each of the girls resembled her strongly. Esther had the broad, low forehead and serious eyes, but Kate had the resolute mouth with a touch of playfulness lurking at the corners. A girl, much younger than either, rolled sleepily out of the hammock as they stepped on the veranda.

"Oh, I'm glad you've come," she said, rubbing her eyes. "This has been the longest, stupidest day I ever saw. Papa's been away, and mamma's been busy with the company, and Aunt Milly's been so cross because she couldn't go out to the farm, that she's been ready to snap my head off every time I looked in at the kitchen. Even the cat went off visiting."

"What a dull day you've had of it, Virgie!" said Esther, kissing the child's flushed cheek. "But what ailed Aunt Milly? She knows she couldn't be spared to go out there to-day."

"Of course she knows it," said Mrs. Northmore, "and she would have felt even worse to be spared from here, but I suspect the real grievance was the cheerfulness with which you girls left her behind. She wanted to feel that she was needed in both places. Poor old Milly, she can't reconcile herself to the idea that we can really get along without her anywhere."

"Why didn't we think of that?" cried Kate. "If we'd asked her advice about a lot of things, and shaken our heads over the difficulties we should get into, with her out of our reach, she'd have been happy all day. Esther, you and I are a pair of stupids, but I'll make it up to her yet."

"Oh, she's forgiven you already," said Mrs. Northmore; "and if she punishes you at all, it'll be by way of showing you some special favors, you may be sure of that."

"There she comes now," said Kate, as footsteps were heard approaching on the tiled floor of the hall; and she added, listening to the thud of the heavy feet, whose stout slippers dropping at the heels doubled the fall with a solemn tap, "walking as if she went on two wooden legs and a pair of crutches."

The comparison was not bad, and the laugh that followed it had hardly ended when the old servant showed a lugubrious face at the door.

"Howdy, Aunt Milly?" cried Kate before the other had a chance to speak.

"Here we are, you see, home again. I was just coming out to the kitchen to tell you how we got along, and see if you could give us a bite to eat. I suppose you think we had our suppers at the farm, and so we did; but it wasn't like one of your suppers, and I guess you know how much appet.i.te you have when you're all mixed up with the cooking. Don't bother to bring anything in here, but just let us sit out in the kitchen with you."

At this artful proposal Milly's face shortened unmistakably. "Don't know's I've got anything you'd keer about," she began with a show of reluctance, "but I'll knock round and see what I can find for you."

"Oh, you'll find something-you always do," said Kate. "By the way, I thought I smelled something good when I was coming up to the house."

"It was the catalpa blossoms, and you know it," said Esther, laughing, and looking at her sister with a reproving glance, when the door had closed behind Milly.