sends.”
“Commendable,” Edith replied. All at once, she began to eat more quickly, certain she was merely trying to get ahead of the children. After all, she had a lot of meals to catch up on, and at their rate of speed, there’d be no second helping if she didn’t hurry.
She looked up to find Louise gazing at her. Edith became a little nervous. The child’s look seemed to be largely composed of speculation and surprise, as though she were wondering what strange kind of insect she found in the yard. Sternly. Edith told herself that she was far older than Louise and should easily be able to manage the child. Yet when she tried to meet her steady gaze, it was Edith’s eyes that fell.
“If you’re done eating,” Louise said, “I’ll be glad to show you ‘round, Cousin Edith.”
Mr. Dane frowned. “That’s right nice of you, honey. But I bet she’s worn out from traveling, aren’t you, uh, Edith?”
“Actually, I slept very well on the train. Thank you, Louise. I’d appreciate a tour.”
“Okay.” The girl took her plate to the sink. “You ready?”
“Me too,” Maribel cried, climbing down from her chair.
Like Louise, the younger daughter of the house carried her plate to the sink, although she demonstrated greater care, holding the rim tight in her fists. Edith felt it wise to follow the little girls’ example and also put her sticky plate into the cast-iron sink.
“Why, thanks, cousin,” Mr. Dane said. “Girls, you run on out in the yard. I want to talk to Miss Edith a minute.”
With some alarm, Edith resumed her seat. She folded her hands primly in her lap and looked up at the older gentleman, trying to disguise her apprehension. He leaned back in his chair to glance out the back door. Edith peered past him and saw that both girls were running around the yard, aimlessly.
Mr. Dane brought all four feet of his chair back to the ground. With a mysterious air, he drew a small clipping out of his apron pocket and unfolded it. His deep-set brown eyes looked at the neatly torn piece and then locked on hers.
“You don’t resemble your picture much. You sure that son of mine brought home the right party?”
He handed the paper across. It was her own advertisement from the Bulletin, from the last time it ran. Edith had never noticed before how sharp and narrow her aunt’s gaze was behind her black pince-nez. Perhaps it was her own guilty conscience that made it seem her aunt was giving her a most criticizing look.
At the same time, however, Edith recalled that Jeff had mistaken her for her aunt when first they’d met. She cringed at the thought. Surely, she could not look so stern ... so ... incurably virtuous.
“That’s my late aunt. I’m running the service now.”
“You must be pretty busy. Jeff must have been kind of pushy to get you to come all the way out here.”
“I didn’t have very much choice, I’m afraid.”
“You mean he made you throw everything else up? That doesn’t sound like Jeff.”
“Oh, no,” Edith said, hurrying to adjust Mr. Dane’s wrong idea. “He was courtesy itself. It was just that . . . well . . .”
Without knowing quite how, Edith began telling the older man all about her troubles with her empty post box and her demanding landlord. “Really, I was at my wit’s end.”
“So when my son offered you a job, you jumped at it?”
“No, she didn’t. That’s the last thing she did.”
Edith turned around in her seat. Jeff Dane leaned against the kitchen door frame, his arms folded across his chest. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there, but he surely must have heard every word, even when she described him as “a gallant knight riding to her rescue.”
He pushed lazily away from the upright post and entered the room. A long brown dog followed him in. The animal stopped and raised its head. Edith found herself looking into the sad face of what was probably the ugliest dog she’d ever seen in her life. His face was all
“Commendable,” Edith replied. All at once, she began to eat more quickly, certain she was merely trying to get ahead of the children. After all, she had a lot of meals to catch up on, and at their rate of speed, there’d be no second helping if she didn’t hurry.
She looked up to find Louise gazing at her. Edith became a little nervous. The child’s look seemed to be largely composed of speculation and surprise, as though she were wondering what strange kind of insect she found in the yard. Sternly. Edith told herself that she was far older than Louise and should easily be able to manage the child. Yet when she tried to meet her steady gaze, it was Edith’s eyes that fell.
“If you’re done eating,” Louise said, “I’ll be glad to show you ‘round, Cousin Edith.”
Mr. Dane frowned. “That’s right nice of you, honey. But I bet she’s worn out from traveling, aren’t you, uh, Edith?”
“Actually, I slept very well on the train. Thank you, Louise. I’d appreciate a tour.”
“Okay.” The girl took her plate to the sink. “You ready?”
“Me too,” Maribel cried, climbing down from her chair.
Like Louise, the younger daughter of the house carried her plate to the sink, although she demonstrated greater care, holding the rim tight in her fists. Edith felt it wise to follow the little girls’ example and also put her sticky plate into the cast-iron sink.
“Why, thanks, cousin,” Mr. Dane said. “Girls, you run on out in the yard. I want to talk to Miss Edith a minute.”
With some alarm, Edith resumed her seat. She folded her hands primly in her lap and looked up at the older gentleman, trying to disguise her apprehension. He leaned back in his chair to glance out the back door. Edith peered past him and saw that both girls were running around the yard, aimlessly.
Mr. Dane brought all four feet of his chair back to the ground. With a mysterious air, he drew a small clipping out of his apron pocket and unfolded it. His deep-set brown eyes looked at the neatly torn piece and then locked on hers.
“You don’t resemble your picture much. You sure that son of mine brought home the right party?”
He handed the paper across. It was her own advertisement from the Bulletin, from the last time it ran. Edith had never noticed before how sharp and narrow her aunt’s gaze was behind her black pince-nez. Perhaps it was her own guilty conscience that made it seem her aunt was giving her a most criticizing look.
At the same time, however, Edith recalled that Jeff had mistaken her for her aunt when first they’d met. She cringed at the thought. Surely, she could not look so stern ... so ... incurably virtuous.
“That’s my late aunt. I’m running the service now.”
“You must be pretty busy. Jeff must have been kind of pushy to get you to come all the way out here.”
“I didn’t have very much choice, I’m afraid.”
“You mean he made you throw everything else up? That doesn’t sound like Jeff.”
“Oh, no,” Edith said, hurrying to adjust Mr. Dane’s wrong idea. “He was courtesy itself. It was just that . . . well . . .”
Without knowing quite how, Edith began telling the older man all about her troubles with her empty post box and her demanding landlord. “Really, I was at my wit’s end.”
“So when my son offered you a job, you jumped at it?”
“No, she didn’t. That’s the last thing she did.”
Edith turned around in her seat. Jeff Dane leaned against the kitchen door frame, his arms folded across his chest. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there, but he surely must have heard every word, even when she described him as “a gallant knight riding to her rescue.”
He pushed lazily away from the upright post and entered the room. A long brown dog followed him in. The animal stopped and raised its head. Edith found herself looking into the sad face of what was probably the ugliest dog she’d ever seen in her life. His face was all
Similar Books
