Felicity mimicked the airs of Priscilla. "You're right. Priscilla sees herself as much prettier."

"She is a little prettier," admitted Jennifer, "though I think Constance might be just as prettya"maybe even prettier because she isn't as poutya"if she weren't so stern."

"And wore her hair a little softer."

"And chose prettier dresses."

"That's enough," Julia cut in. "This is none of our business. Let's be kind," she reminded her offspring.

The girls washed the remaining dishes with fewer comments.

"It is strange," Hettie remarked after the girls slipped off to the porch swing with gla.s.ses of lemonade.

"It certainly is, but you know how some families are. For one reason or another they favor one child over the others."

Hettie too had seen it happen.

The back door opened, and the twins entered the kitchen, their gla.s.ses still full.

"Is it windy out?" asked Julia.

"No," grouched Felicity. "Miss Prissy has the swing." The girls often called the young woman by the name Hettie had used on the day she arrived.

"She wants some lemonade too. With cookies," Felicity continued.

Jennifer placed two gla.s.ses and some cookies on a tray and left with it.

Julia turned to Felicity. "Was her mother with her?"

"No."

"Constance?"

"Constance was there, but she had to run back to the room for Miss Prissy's shawl."

Julia was glad Jennifer had included lemonade for Miss Constance too. She felt sorry for her.

"Is Miss Prissy all settled?" Felicity asked when Jennifer returned.

Jennifer nodded. "She even said, *Thank you kindly.' "

"Miss Prissy?"

"No. Not her. Miss Constance. *Thank you kindly,' just like that. I've hardly heard her speak before."

"Mama," said Felicity, "how old do you think she is?"

"Well, I don't know," responded Julia, rolling another circle of pie crust dough. "Perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two."

"And Miss Prissy?"

"A couple years younger maybe."

"Miss Prissy looks bored to death," observed Jennifer.

"I suppose Miss Constance would be bored too if she didn't have all those books to read," Felicity stated. "But she is bound to run out soon. I wonder what she will do then?"

"We have a fine library. She is welcome to read any of our books," said Julia.

"She sure is different from her sister," Jennifer said as she stirred the lemon slice in her drink. "She doesn't say much, but she always makes her own bed, hangs up her clothes, and opens her window to air the room. Miss Prissy would never do that."

"But Miss Prissy talks more," said Felicity.

"If you call giving orders talking," Jennifer stated.

"Or whining," added Felicity.

"Now, girls. We have talked about this before," scolded Julia. "I don't want you saying nasty things about people."

"Even if they are true?" asked Felicity.

"Even if they are true," replied Julia.

The next day Jennifer and Felicity left the kitchen carrying pails. They found Miss Constance alone on the porch swing reading. She looked up when she heard them approach. Her eyes rested on the buckets.

"Do you milk cows?" she asked.

"Oh no," laughed Felicity. "We buy our milk from the Shannons."

"Do you carry it home like that?" she continued her probing.

"No, Tom gets it," answered Jennifer. "We are going to pick berries."

"Berries? Here?"

"No. Not in our garden. Wild berries."

"Where?" asked Miss Constance.

"It's a ways from here. In the woods. We know almost every patch around, I guess. Mama sends us out for berries, and she makes jams and jellies."

"Would you like to come?" asked Felicity.

Jennifer gave her a nervous look. Millicent was going along, and Jennifer had hoped to talk with her about the questions she had been asking.

"Oh, could I?" Miss Constance asked. "I have never picked berries before."

Felicity and Jennifer exchanged glances. "I'll get another pail," said Jennifer.

"I'll get it," said Felicity. "You go with Millicent. We'll meet you at the patch."

Jennifer gave her twin a grateful look.

"Do you have some walking shoes?" Felicity asked Miss Constance.

"I'll get them. And leave a note for Mother."

Felicity returned to the kitchen for another bucket. "I can't believe it," she told her mother. "Miss Constance wants to go with us. She has never picked berries before."

"Perhaps she will enjoy the outing," said Julia, who always found a quiet stroll through the trees relaxing.

Felicity took the pail and waited on the porch for Constance. She didn't have to wait long. The young woman hurried toward her a few minutes later, her cheeks pink with antic.i.p.ation. Felicity had never seen her show any excitement before.

Felicity led the way down the winding path through the tall timber. "It's a bit of a walk," she explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no," said Constance. "I love walking."

The comment surprised Felicity. She had not seen the young woman walk anywhere.

"Walking is about the only way to get around here," Felicity explained. "We don't have roads for teams or motor cars."

"It's nice and quiet," responded Miss Constance.

"Is that why you came?" asked Felicity.

The girl hesitated. At last she replied, "We came for Priscilla. She needs a quiet place."

"Has she been ill?"

"You might say that," Miss Constance answered after another pause.

Felicity looked at her walking companion. Surely Priscilla is not another escapee, she thought. She seems soa"so normala"in a grumpy kind of way. Putting her thoughts aside, Felicity responded, "I'ma"I'm sorry to hear that."

Miss Constance was looking off in the distance, breathing deeply of the smell of pine and spruce. "Are there any bears here?" she asked.

Felicity hesitated. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to scare her companion either. After a short battle in her mind, honesty won. "Yes," she answered. "That's why we talk or sing when we walka"or rattle our pails or something. If they hear us coming they don't stay around."

Miss Constance laughed. It was the first time Felicity had heard her express any feeling of happiness. It sounded a little tight and strained, as though she was out of practice, but it was definitely a laugh.

"I think I'll like it here," she said.

"Are you staying longer than two weeks?"

A strange look crossed the girl's face; then she nodded slowly. "I expect so. Unless Priscilla just can't bear it."

Felicity wondered at the remark, but didn't question Miss Constance.

They beat Jennifer and Millicent to the patch and were busily filling their pails with plump, juicy berries when the other two girls arrived.

"How are they?" called Jennifer.

"Delicious!" answered Miss Constance. Stains on her lips proved that she spoke from firsthand knowledge.

Jennifer and Millicent found their own spot for picking and fell to work without conversation. Occasionally a bird flew over and loudly scolded the pickers for usurping the patch. They paid little heed to the chattering. Squirrels added their complaints from nearby trees. Chipmunks dashed into the patch and helped themselves, as if afraid there would be no berries left for them if they didn't hurry.

Hearing Miss Constance sigh, Felicity turned to look at her. She was sitting quietly, her hands motionless in her lap, her face upturned, studying the scudding clouds.

"It's getting hot," observed Jennifer. "I'm thirsty."

"Me, too," said Millicent. "Let's get a drink."

"Did you bring water?" asked Miss Constance, returning from her reverie.

"Noa"we just go to the stream over there."

"There's a stream?"

"You can hear it if you listen carefully," said Jennifer, tipping her head.

"Oh yes. I hear it. I didn't realize what that sound was. Can we go?"

"Sure. But take your berries with you. Some animal might get into them if you leave your bucket behind."

Miss Constance laughed again, a little freer now, as if she were beginning to find pleasure in life.

That afternoon at tea Mrs. Blakeney announced they would be leaving. Julia was disappointed. She had hoped for a bit more income from the familya"even though they did keep her running with their mult.i.tude of orders.

"Send one of the young girls to help me pack in the morning," Mrs. Blakeney ordered.

Julia promised she would.

"Do you need them both?" she asked, trying to be helpful.

"Oh, I think one should be able to handle it just finea"unless she is dreadfully slow," said Mrs. Blakeney. "I just have the two suitcases."

"And your daughters?" asked Julia, unable to believe that Miss Prissy, who hadn't lifted a pretty pink finger since her arrival, would actually pack her own luggage. Unless, of course, poor Miss Constance would be packing for her.

"The girls! Oh, they aren't leaving," answered Mrs. Blakeney as though Julia should have known.

Julia stared at the woman, who kept talking without even a pause.

"It will work just fine. I know Priscilla is bored, but she must endure that. She knew it would be this way. Constance will see to her."

Julia still had not thought of anything to say.

"Mr. Blakeney and I will be getting back to the city. There are so many events to attend to. I just can't be away very long at a time. You understand. Things are always so busy in the city. Especially when one is a social leader, so to speak. I will try to find time to pop out now and then to see how the girls are doing."