Then Luella turned another gaze upon the handsome stranger, who was standing on the platform just below her, looking about interestedly. She thought he had looked at her more than casually; and, as she settled herself in the seat, she glanced down at her pongee travelling-suit consciously, feeling that he could but have thought she looked well.
He was still standing on the platform as the train moved out, and Luella could see the girl in the pony-cart turn her attention to him. She half wished she were sitting in the pony-cart too. It would be interesting to find out who he was. Luella preened herself, and settled her large hat in front of the strip of mirror between the windows, and then looked around the car that she might see who were her fellow passengers.
“Well, I’m glad we’re off,” said her mother nervously. “I was afraid as could be your cousin might come in on that early through train before we got started. It would have been trying if he’d come just as we were getting away. I don’t know how we could have explained it.”
“Yes,” said Luella. “I’m glad we’re safely off. He’ll never suspect now.”
It was just at that moment that the grocery-boy arrived at the back door with a crate of red raspberries.
“Land alive!” said Miss Crete disappointedly. “I hoped those wouldn’t come till to-morrow.” She bustled about, taking the boxes out of the crate so that the boy might take it back; and before she was done the door-bell rang.
“Land alive!” said Miss Crete again as she wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and hurried to the front door, taking off her apron as she went. “I do hope he hasn’t come yet. I haven’t cleared off that breakfast-table; and, if he should happen to come out, there’s three plates standing.”
But the thought had come too late. The dining-room door was stretched wide open, and the table in full view. The front door was guarded only by the wire screen. The visitor had been able to take full notes, if he so desired.
CHAPTER II
THE BACKWOODS COUSIN
Miss Lucretia opened the screen, and noticed the fine appearance of the young man standing there. He was not shabby enough for an agent. Some one had made a mistake, she supposed. She waited pleasantly for him to tell his errand.
“Is this where Mrs. Carrie Burton lives?” he asked, removing his hat courteously.
And, when she answered, “Yes,” his whole face broke into dancing eagerness.
“Is this my Aunt Carrie? I wonder”; and he held out a tentative, appealing hand for welcome. “I’m Donald Grant.”
“O!” said Miss Lucretia delightedly, “O!” and she took his hand in both her own. “No, I ain’t your Aunt Carrie, I’m your Aunt Crete; but I’m just as glad to see you. I didn’t think you’d be so big and handsome. Your Aunt Carrie isn’t home. They’ve just—why—that is—they are—they had planned to be at the shore for three weeks, and they’ll be real sorry when they know——.” This last sentence was added with extra zeal, for Aunt Crete exulted in the fact that Carrie and Luella would indeed be sorry if they could look into their home for one instant and see the guest from whom they had run away. She felt sure that if they had known how fine-looking a young man he was, they would have stayed and been proud of him.
“I’m sorry they are away,” said the young man, stooping to kiss Aunt Crete’s plump, comfortable cheek; “but I’m mighty glad you’re at home, Aunt Crete,” he said with genuine pleasure. “I’m going to like you for all I’m worth to make up for the absence of my aunt and cousin. You say they have gone to the shore. When will they be at home? Is their stay there almost up?”
“Why, no,” said Aunt Crete, flushing uncomfortably. “They haven’t been gone long. And they’ve engaged their rooms there for three weeks at a big hotel. Luella, she’s always been bound to go to one of those big places where rich people go, the Traymore. It’s advertised in all the papers. I expect you’ve seen it sometimes. It’s one of the most expensive places at the shore. I’ve almost a notion to write and tell them to come home, for I’m sure they’ll be sorry when they hear about you; but you see it’s this way. There’s a young man been paying Luella some attention, and he’s going down there soon; I don’t know but he’s there already; and his mother and sister are spending the whole season there; so Luella had her heart set on going down and boarding at the same hotel.”
“Ah, I see,” said the nephew. “Well, it wouldn’t do to spoil my cousin’s good time. Perhaps we can run down to the shore for a few days ourselves after we get acquainted. Say, Aunt Crete, am I too late for a bite of breakfast? I was so tired of the stuff they had on the dining-car I thought I’d save up my appetite till I got here, for I made sure you’d have a bite of bread and butter, anyway.”
“Bless your dear heart, yes,” said Aunt Crete, delighted to have the subject turned; for she had a terrible fear she would yet tell a lie about the departure of her sister and niece, and a lie was a calamity not always easily avoided in a position like hers. “You just sit down here, you dear boy, and wait about two minutes till I set the coffee-pot over the fire and cut some more bread. It isn’t a mite of trouble, for I hadn’t cleared off the breakfast-table yet. In fact, I hadn’t rightly finished my own breakfast, I was so busy getting to rights. The grocery-boy came, and—well, I never can eat much when folks are going—I mean when I’m alone,” she finished triumphantly.
She hurried out into the dining-room to get the table cleared off, but Donald followed her. She tried to scuttle the plates together and remove all traces of the number of guests at the meal just past, but she could not be sure whether he noticed the table or not.
“May I help you?” asked the young man, grabbing Luella’s plate and cup, and following her into the kitchen. “It’s so good to get into a real home again with somebody who belongs to me. You know father is in Mexico, and I’ve been in the university for the last four years.”
“The university!” Aunt Crete’s eyes shone. “Do you have universities out West? My! Won’t Luella be astonished? I guess she thinks out West is all woods.”
Donald’s eyes danced.
“We have a few good schools out there,” he said quietly.
While they were eating the breakfast that Aunt Crete prepared in an incredibly short space of time, Donald asked a great many questions. What did his aunt and cousin look like? Was Aunt Carrie like her, or like his mother? And Luella, had she been to college? And what did she look like?
Aunt Crete told him mournfully that Luella was more like herself than like her mother. “And it seems sometimes as if she blamed me for it,” said the patient aunt. “It makes it hard, her being a sort of society girl, and wanting to look so fine. Dumpy figures like mine don’t dress up pretty, you know. No, Luella never went to college. She didn’t take much to books. She liked having a good time with young folks better. She’s been wanting to go down to the shore and be at a real big hotel for three summers now, but Carrie never felt able to afford it before. We’ve been saving up all winter for Luella to have this treat, and I do hope she’ll have a good time. It’s real hard on her, having to stay right home all the time when all her girl friends go off to the shore. But you see she’s got in with some real wealthy people who stay at expensive places, and she isn’t satisfied to go to a common boarding-house. It must be nice to have money and go to a big hotel. I’ve never been in one myself; but Luella has, and she’s told all about it. I should think it would be grand to live that way awhile with not a thing to do.”
“They ought to have taken you along, Aunt Crete,” said the young man. “I do hope I didn’t keep you at home to entertain me.”
“O,