"They still have time," Hettie comforted.

"Do you thinka"?"

The train whistle blew before Julia finished her sentence, and she forgot her question, her tea, and her half-eaten cookie.

"They're here!" she said excitedly. She rose quickly from her chair.

"No. No, it'll take Tom a bit of time to get them here. The train is just pulling in."

Julia brushed her skirts, lifted trembling hands to her hair, and sat down again. But she couldn't stay still for long. After one more sip of tea she left the kitchen for a final check of the house.

"Is this all there is to your town?" Mr. Blakeney asked Tom as the horses trotted along Main Street.

Tom hardly knew how to answer. If the Blakeneys expected a hustling, bustling town, they had not read the brochure carefully.

Tom cleared his throat to answer, but Mrs. Blakeney cut in. "It is just what we wanted, isn't it, Thaddeus?" Her shrill voice made the words into a command rather than an observation.

The man only sniffed.

The two younger women stared directly ahead, no questions on their lips or in their eyes, no apparent interest in the town at all.

They pa.s.sed the yard where the Shannon children played. As the team approached, the game stopped and four pairs of curious eyes looked at the pa.s.sengers in the buggy. One lifted a pudgy hand to wave, and Tom dipped his head in reply.

"I do hope we won't be hara.s.sed by curious neighbors," said the older woman.

Tom noted all of the boarded-up houses. It was obvious they were empty. Not much hara.s.sment from neighbors there.

Julia was waiting at the door, Hettie close behind her. Mr. Blakeney bowed stiffly, but his wife was too busy looking around to notice Julia's welcome. She studied all she saw.

"It should do just fine," Julia heard her say to her husband. When at last she turned to Julia, she gave an order. "Show us to our rooms." Then to Hettie she said, "You will draw a bath for Miss Priscilla at once. She is very weary from the journey."

She turned then to Tom. "The suitcases will be needed immediately. I will point out to you which ones go in which rooms."

Julia, who normally sent Hettie up with the guests, led the party up the stairs herself. She indicated the three available rooms with the shared bath in the hallway. Hettie was already in the bathroom filling the tub.

"Priscilla, you may choose," the older woman said to one of her daughters.

The girl surveyed each room, then looked them over a second time, studied them more closely a third time, and finally settled on the room that overlooked the valley.

"Your father and I will take the room across the hall," Mrs. Blakeney informed the young woman. The third room was thus a.s.signed to the second daughter, who moved into it without a word.

"Tea will be served in the main parlor in half an hour," Julia told her guests.

"So long?" asked the woman.

"Ia"I thought we must allow your daughter time to properly enjoy her bath," Julia explained.

"She will have tea in her room," Mrs. Blakeney replied. "The rest of us will be ready in ten minutes."

"As you wish," Julia answered. No wonder I have been nervous about these guests, she thought. They are going to be more than demanding.

"In ten," she repeated and went to help prepare tea.

Felicity and Jennifer were in the kitchen putting away the items they had brought from the store. Hettie had not returned from drawing the bath for Miss Priscilla.

"Come," said Julia to the girls, "give me a hand with the tea things. Hettie has been waylaid running a bath for our guest."

"I thought you said they had grown children," said Felicity.

"They are. At least twenty, I think."

"Then whya"?" began Felicity, but she was stopped short by one look at her mother.

"Because, it seems the dears are used to being waited on hand and foot," Julia replied. "I'm afraid we are in for some trying days."

The girls exchanged nervous glances, then busied themselves arranging the tea tray and preparing the plate of sweets.

"And I think it might be wise if you said *ma'am' and *sir' when addressing them," advised Julia. She had never before asked her children to act as servantsa"only as equalsa"caring for the needs of others.

Both girls showed their surprise.

"Well," Julia apologized, "we do need the money, and the longer they stay the more money we will make. You both need new dresses badly."

It was the first time Julia had mentioned to the girls their need of clothes.

"We'll try to remember," said Jennifer.

Hettie puffed into the kitchen, her face red.

"Dear little Miss Priscilla," she scoffed. "Miss Prissy, if you ask me!"

Julia had never seen her housekeeper so upset.

"First it's too colda"then it's too hot. Huh! Goldilocks herself had nothing on that one."

Julia tried to suppress a smile, and Felicity had a hard time stifling her giggle.

The sharp ring of a bell startled them all.

"What's that?" asked Julia.

"I'll go see," said Felicity, hurrying off to find the source of the noise.

It was not hard to do, for the bell rang persistently. Felicity found the answer in the parlor. Mrs. Blakeney, sitting in Julia's favorite chair, was shaking the daylights out of a copper bell.

"Is something wrong?" asked Felicity.

"We are ready for our tea," said the woman.

Fearing she would burst into laughter, Felicity did not dare answer. She turned and headed back to the kitchen. At the parlor door she remembered her mother's instructions and turned to say, as evenly as she could, "Yes, ma'am." Then she closed the door carefully, remembering to not let it slam, and hastened to the kitchen.

"You're not going to believe this," she said, her eyes big. "There Mrs. Blakeney sits, like a queen or something, ringing that noisy bell. There it goes again."

Julia picked up the tea tray and left the kitchen. Jennifer went to help her serve. The days ahead might indeed be trying.

"Miss Constance will let you know when Miss Priscilla is ready for her tea. She likes it weaka"with both cream and sugar. And she prefers cake to cookies," said the woman as she accepted her cup of tea.

Julia nodded.

"We like to dine at seven," the woman went on. "And we will have breakfast served in our rooms whena""

"No," Julia interrupted, firmly but softly. "Breakfast is served in the dining room at seven-thirty or eight, whichever you prefer."

Though taken aback, the woman recovered quickly. "Eight will be fine," she said a bit sharply.

Julia turned to leave, and Jennifer followed. Perhaps I should have humored her, Julia thought. We do need the money, and she is a paying guest. But no. It has gone quite far enough. We simply can't cater to them all day long.

As soon as the door separating the parlor from the dining room closed behind them, Jennifer whispered, "Good for you, Mama."

Julia allowed herself a weak smile. She hoped she hadn't done the wrong thing.

When they reached the kitchen, Felicity was waiting for a report. Jennifer was happy to fill her in.

"She just sits there and gives orders," she concluded.

"Oh, to have Mrs. Williams back again," breathed Felicity, and the others laughed.

"She was strange but sweet," admitted Jennifer.

"I wonder where they area"and how they are," said Julia, setting the tea tray on the kitchen table and taking the cups to the sink. "Jennifer, get the smaller tray and set it up for Miss Priscilla. Felicity, get the flowered sugar and creamer from the sideboard. She might be calling any minute."

"I wonder what kind of a bell she has," Jennifer commented as she completed her task.

"Likely a gong," replied Felicity, and the two girls laughed together.

It was some time before Miss Constance rapped on the kitchen door to say that Miss Priscilla was ready for tea. Apparently she liked a long, leisurely soak.

"I'll send it right up," Julia promised.

"No need for you to run up with it. I'll take it."

Looking up in surprise, Julia looked into eyes full of deep sorrow. Her heart went out to Miss Constance. She wanted to step forward and pull the young woman into her arms. But the moment quickly pa.s.sed, and Julia turned her attention to the task at hand. She added steaming water to the teapot, set it on the tray, and pa.s.sed the tray to the young woman.

Miss Constance left the kitchen, her back straight, her chin up.

"My," remarked Julia, when the door had closed, "have you ever seen a sadder looking face?"

"Is she the maid?" asked Felicity.

"No," answered Julia. "The letter said the Blakeneys have two grown daughters."

"So, why do they pamper one and work the other?"

"I don't know," admitted Julia, shaking her head. "Of course, it may not be that they work her. Perhaps she just offered to carry the tray, this once, to save us the steps."

"Sure different from the rest of the family," observed Jennifer.

"She's awfully quiet," said Felicity.

"She was quiet in the parlor too," Jennifer added. "I never heard her say one thing over tea. Did you, Mama?"

"No, I guess I didn't," admitted Julia.

"The mothera"now, she prattled the whole time," Jennifer explained to Felicity. "I don't know who she was talking to. No one was listening. But she talked without stopping."

"They are even more strange than poor Mrs. Williams," said Felicity. "That's what I'm thinking."

"Remember, girls," cautioned Julia. "Don't judge too soona"or too harshly. We really don't know anything about them yet."

Chapter Twenty.

Getting Acquainted As the week pa.s.sed, Julia discovered that the twins had accurately summed up the Blakeney family on the day of their arrival. Mrs. Blakeney did talk all the time, and no one listened. In fact, Mr. Blakeney paid little attention to any of the women. He was stiff, bored, and not very courteous. Miss Priscilla whined or primped, and Miss Constance ran all errands not a.s.signed to the "servants."

Julia wondered at the strange family arrangement but never mentioned her thoughts to her daughters. The girls openly discussed the situation, however, concocting stories to explain the circ.u.mstances.

"I'll bet she's a stepdaughter," said Felicity.

"But whose? His or hers?" asked Jennifer.

"She must be his daughter. He doesn't talk to anyone, but Mrs. Blakeney would talk to Constance if she were her daughter."

"She does talk to hera"Constance just doesn't listen," Jennifer reminded Felicity.

"You're right. Mrs. Blakeney does talk."

"Maybe Constance was adopted."

"She looks too much like Priscilla."

"She does, doesn't she? Though I am sure Priscilla would die if you told her that."