"Why, Aunt Betty, please? Of course, I don't want to see her in that red frock again--I'd like to burn that up so n.o.body would ever see it and be reminded how careless and unjust I was. But there's a pretty blue one she could have."

"That's not my reason, dearie. I think it has been a mistake, kindly meant, to dress her as you have; that is for longer than was necessary to freshen her own soiled things." She paused and Alfy remarked:

"She's the proudest thing for them bright colors. Red, and green, and blue--ary one just sets her smilin'. Besides, once Dinah tried to put back her old brown dress and Luna wouldn't let her. Just folded her arms up tight and didn't--didn't look a mite pleasant."

Those who had seen Luna on the rare occasions when she showed anger smiled at this mild description of her appearance then.

"I don't know as Dinah would be bothered with her, Aunt Betty, and Norah has a sick headache. But--I'll stay and take care of her if you don't want her to go," said Dorothy.

It was an effort to say this and dreading that her offer might be accepted the girl turned her face away to hide her disappointment; but whatever Mrs. Calvert's answer might have been she was not to hear it then.

Because there was Jim Barlow beckoning to her in a mysterious manner from behind a great hydrangea bush and looking vastly excited over something. So it was a relief to murmur: "Excuse me a minute, Aunt Betty," and to respond to that summons.

"Dolly, there's a man here wants to see you."

"A man? To see me? and not Aunt Betty? Who is he?"

Jim answered rather impatiently to this string of questions.

"I said a man, didn't I. He said he'd rather see you because he knows you, that is you gave him a lift on the road once in your pony cart and talked real sensible----"

"Couldn't have meant me, then, could he, Jim?"

"Don't fool, Dorothy. He looks as if he was in some trouble. He's the head man from Oliver Sands's grist-mill. Some relation to the miller, I've heard, and lives with him. Hurry up and don't hender the raft of us any longer'n you can help. Tell him, whatever his business is, 'twill have to wait, 't we're going to the Fair and all the teams are ready----"

"Yes, I'll hurry. Where is he?"

"In that little summer-house beyond the lily pond. That's where he said he'd go. Get rid of him quick, for the horses don't like to stand after they're harnessed."

"All right, I'll try!" Gayly waving her hand in the direction of the piazza, she sped across the lawn to a group of silver birches, and the spot in question. Solidly roofed, with vine covered sides, and good board floor, the out-of-door building was a pleasant place, and had been greatly enjoyed by all the House Party. It was well furnished with wicker tables, chairs, and lounges, and heavy matting covered the floor. It was empty now except for the old man awaiting Dorothy, and his first remark showed that he appreciated this bit of outdoor comfort.

"It's real purty in here, ain't it? Anybody could spend a night here and take no hurt, couldn't she?"

"Why, ye-es, I suppose so; if anybody wished. James told me you asked for me. What is it, please, for we're just on the point of starting for the County Fair, and I don't like to delay the others."

"Hmm. Yes. I suppose so. Hmm. Yes. Thee is the little girl that's had such a story-paper kind of life, isn't thee? Don't remember me, but I do thee. Gave me a ride once after that little piebald nag thee swopped Oliver's calf for. Thee sees I know thee, if thee has forgot me and how my floury clothes. .h.i.t the black jacket thee wore, that day, and dusted it well, 'Dusty miller' thee laughed and called me, sayin'

that was some sort of plant grows in gardens. But I knew that. Dorcas has a whole bed of it under her kitchen window. Hmm. Yes."

Dorothy tapped her foot impatiently, but did not sit down. Would the man never tell his errand? Finally, as he lapsed into a reverie she roused him, saying:

"What is your errand, please?"

"It's to help an old man in trouble. It--the--I don't find it so easy to begin. But--is there a little old woman here, no bigger than a child? Is she here? Is she safe?"

This was a question so unexpected that Dorothy sat down the better to consider it; then greatly wondering, answered:

"Yes, there is an afflicted little creature here. Why? What do you know about her?"

"All there is to know, child! All there is to know. Thee sees a most unhappy man before thee, la.s.s."

"Who is Luna? How came she here? Tell me, quick, quick; and if you know her home?"

"Verily, I know it, since it's my own, too. It's a long story, a long lane, but the worm turned. Ah! yes. It turned."

Dolly began to think her visitor was crazy and springing up ran toward the house, saying:

"I'm going for Aunt Betty. I'd rather you told your errand to her."

The man did not object, and, greatly surprised by the imperative summons though smiling at her darling's excitement, Mrs. Calvert left her guests and followed the girl through the shrubbery to the arbor where the vines hid her from the curious glances of those she had left.

"Something's up! I wonder what?" exclaimed Monty Stark.

"Whatever it is, if it concerns us we shall be told in due time; and if it doesn't--Hmm," answered Helena.

"Stand corrected, Miss Montaigne; but bet a cookie you're as curious as all the rest of us."

"Well, yes, I am; though I never bet--even cookies. Now let's talk of something else till they come back. I know they'll not be long."

Nor were they; for down in the summer-house, with Elisabeth Calvert's compelling gaze upon him, the visitor told his tale.

"Thee can look upon me, lady, as the worm that turned. I am a poor relation of Oliver Sands and he felt he owned me."

"That man? Are we never to hear the end of Oliver Sands? He's the 'Old Man of the Mountain', in truth, for his name is on everyone's lips,"

cried Mistress Betty, crisply, yet resigning herself to the chair Dorothy pushed her way.

"Thee never said truer. He is the biggest man up-mounting in more ways'n one. I've not wasted more love on him than many another but I hadn't no call to break his heart. Hark, thee. I'll be as short as I can.

"When Oliver's mother died he was a boy and I was. She----"

"Beg pardon, please; but this afternoon I really have no time to learn the family history of my neighbor."

"But I have to tell thee part, to make thee understand. When his mother died, a widow, she left them two children, Oliver and Leah. He was a big boy, smart and trustable, and Leah was almost a baby. Her mother knew then that the child wasn't like others, she'd talked it with me, I bein' older'n him; but he didn't know it and from the time she was born he'd just about worshiped that baby. When she was dying Mehitabel made him promise, and a Friend's promise is as good as another man's oath, 't he'd always take care of little Leah and love her better'n anybody in the world. That n.o.body, even if he should grow up and marry and have children of his own, should ever come betwixt her and him. Well, 'twas a good spell before he found out 't he was brother to a fool. That's plain speech but I'm a Quaker. When he did find out, 'twas a'most more'n he could bear. He give out to anybody that asked, how 't she was sickly and had to be kept private.

"Elisabeth Calvert, she _has_ been kept private, all her life long, till I let out the secret. He and Dorcas and me, and the children while they lived at the farm, we was the only ones ever had to do with care of her or saw her even. I worked on for him, he makin' the money, I gettin' shorter wages each year, besides him investin' 'em for me as he pleased.

"But I'm old. I want a home of my own; and lately I've been pestering him to let me go. He'd always make excuse and talk plausible how 't he couldn't spare me nohow. I knew he told the truth, since if I left he'd have to get in strange help and it might get out 't his sister's sickness was plain want of brains. That'd have nigh killed him, he's so proud; to be pointed at as 'Oliver Sands, that's brother to a fool'."

"Well, well. This is exceedingly painful to hear, but to what does it tend?" asked Mrs. Calvert.

"Just this, Elisabeth. One day I got nursin' my wrongs and forgettin'

my blessings, and the devil was on hand to give me the chance. Dorcas was off nursing a sick neighbor, Oliver was to Newburgh on some Fair business, and there wasn't n.o.body in the house but me and Leah. I took an old horse and wagon, 't he'd been meaning to sell, to the sales-stable at the Landing; and I coaxed Leah to come take a ride.

She come ready enough. She didn't have much fun, anyway, except sitting with him in the office such times as he was lookin' over his accounts and reckonin' his money. She liked that. She always liked to handle money. That proved her a Sands, even if she was imbecile!

"Thinks I, I'll break his pride. I'll make him know 't he ain't no better than other folks, even if he does speak in meeting. I meant to carry her clear to the Landing and let things take their chance while I cleared out for good. But when I'd got as far as here I begun to get scared on her account. I'd set out to humble Oliver but I liked Leah, poor creatur'! and I'd forgot I might be hurtin' her the worst. She'd never been 'mongst folks and they might treat her rough. So then I remembered this little girl, and how there was talk 'round about her having a pa.s.sel of young folks to visit her. So I thought Leah would have a chance amongst 'em and I fetched her in and laid her right in this summer-house, on that bench yonder and covered her with a shawl I saw. She was asleep as she is a lot of the time, and didn't notice.

"Then I went on to the Landing, left the rig to the stable, and took the cars for York. I've been there ever since. I never meant to come back; but there's something about this mountain 't pulls wanderers'

feet back to it, whether or no. And--is Leah here?"