By a marvelous effort, the boy recovered his balance. He resumed his whistling as if nothing had happened and clumped heavily down the steps, disappearing from their view.

With a sigh of relief the girls sank back into their chairs.

But the mother remained standing, her eyes yet upon the doorway through which her son had departed. Her raised hands dropped to her side and the look of horror pa.s.sed from her face, leaving it old and tired looking.

Helen arose and, with a word of explanation, disappeared after Charles Augustus.

Virginia marked the hands of the woman yet trembling from her shock. She reached forward and, gently pulling her down into a chair, pressed her soft cheek against the wrinkled face.

The woman fought to control her emotion, but her face sank into her hands and she began to weep. After a time her sobs lessened and she became calmer. She tried to smile through her tears at the girl. "He is my baby," she whispered; "my lame, helpless boy." A change came over her. She threw back her head and resistance blazed in her eyes. "He shan't be lame," she cried, shaken by the intensity of her feelings.

Quickly the mood merged into one of utter helplessness. "If I could get the money," she groaned, but almost instantly her former temper returned. "I will get it," she resolved. "My boy shall have a fair start in life if I have to crawl on my hands and knees to get it for him."

Virginia endeavored to soothe the almost hysterical woman. At last the tense nerves relaxed and self-control returned.

"You must think me silly and weak," the woman told her. "I have been worrying too much. I am so alone with my thoughts here."

"You have Charles Augustus," suggested Virginia, as she stroked the bent shoulders.

"Yes," admitted the woman. "But he goes to bed at six o'clock and that leaves the long evening in which to sit and think--and hate," she blazed. Yet, in an instant her anger had departed and she went on sadly, "It is very lonely after Charles Augustus is asleep."

"Is he your only child?" the girl asked.

"No, I have another boy, much older. He is big and strong and handsome and can take care of himself and his mother," she explained with pride.

"But he is young and is working his way through college. His pay is small and he has had some bad luck, but he is a joy and happiness in my life."

Virginia watched the woman as if fascinated.

Thought for the comfort of her callers returned with composure to the mother of Charles Augustus. "My dear," she said kindly, "I suppose that you are in Maine for a vacation. You don't look like a native.

It's a shame for me to spoil this beautiful afternoon for you with my tears and troubles. I am nervous and overwrought. I had wonderful news yesterday. News which may make me glad all of the rest of my days or make me always sad."

"Please tell me about it," begged Virginia.

The woman yielded to the girl's entreaties and explained that, on the previous day, Charles Augustus had been taken to a physician in Old Rock because of some infantile disease. After treating the boy, the doctor had examined his leg with great interest. Hunting up a copy of a recent medical journal he had shown the mother a description of an operation for a similar case in a New York hospital. It had resulted in the complete recovery of the use of a crippled limb. "That boy's leg could be cured if we could get him on an operating table before he is too old," the doctor had declared with confidence.

The news of the possibility of her son's cure had filled Charles Augustus's mother with joy; but her inability to raise the money for such an operation had almost driven her frantic.

When she ended, Virginia took hold of her hands. "Won't you let me help you?" she begged softly. "There must be a way to do it and I should like to, for--" she hesitated a moment and then--"the sake of Charles Augustus."

The woman looked into the girl's eyes. She found a sweetness there which appealed to her. "I would have no right to refuse any help which would rid my boy of that crutch," she answered.

At the door Virginia glanced back. "Charles Augustus's crutch would make nice kindling wood," she called. "A motorcycle would be much nicer for him."

A hopeful smile crept over the tired face of the woman. "Life would be very beautiful if my Charles Augustus could run and play and ride a wheel like other boys," she said.

Virginia found her cousin and the lad in the midst of a great romp. He beamed at Helen, of whom he had become a great admirer, regardless of her sentimental tendencies. "We didn't miss your cousin one bit, did we?"

he announced, and then, "I don't see anything in that to laugh at,"

when the girls gave vent to their merriment.

"We are going now, Charles Augustus," Helen told him. "Kiss me good bye."

Regardless of his earlier att.i.tude, the lad succ.u.mbed to the allure of a beautiful woman as has man since the beginning of things.

"Are you coming again soon?" he demanded.

"Yes," Virginia answered. She was very serious and thoughtful as she followed the lad and the gay and talkative Helen another way to the pond.

As she pa.s.sed the mail box, she raised her eyes and upon it read the name, "Curtis."

"I knew it," she whispered. "Joe has his mother's eyes."

CHAPTER XVIII

AUNT KATE LENDS A HAND

The next morning Virginia wrote Mrs. Henderson about the case of Charles Augustus. She wrote also to Joe Curtis, but in her letter she did not refer to her meeting with his mother and lame brother or to her visit to his home. Afterwards she went out and sat in the hammock. Swinging gently, she gazed with serious eyes at the landscape; but her thoughts gave but little heed to the beautiful scenery which lay before her.

With motherly interest, Aunt Kate watched her niece through the kitchen window. Wise in the habits and customs of young women, she noted unfavorable portents. "Lands sakes," she called to Helen, "Virginia is moping away in the hammock trying to make herself homesick. Hurry out and cheer the poor child up. Don't let her get lonesome and unhappy."

Helen obediently entered upon her kindly mission. Seating herself by her cousin, she put an arm about her and gave her cheery greeting, "h.e.l.lo cuticomes. Of whom are you dreaming?"

"I am thinking of Charles Augustus."

"He is a darling kid. I could eat him for candy." The cannibalistic Helen smiled anything but fiercely at the thought of her tender prey.

"He is so sweet, Helen. That makes it sadder."

"Makes what sad?"

"His lameness. It is dreadful. Think of it, Helen, never to be able to run and play in comfort."

Shadows of unhappiness clouded the usual cheerfulness of Helen's face.

"It is terrible," she sighed.

"All through his life," the melancholy Virginia went on, "that crutch must be with him. Even when he proposes to a girl it will be beside him at her feet."

"He could leave it in the hall with his hat." Helen's optimism attempted to thrust aside the enshrouding gloom.

"No." Virginia was determined that no ray of light should brighten the dark picture she was painting. "When Charles Augustus proposes, unless the crutch is near, he can't get from his knees."

Helen conceded the point by a helpless nod. "It won't be a bit romantic. It will be pathetic," she whispered.

"Not if the girl loves him truly. Not if he is the answer to the call of her heart."

"He would be the Knight of her thoughts then,--the Prince of her dreams," interjected Helen, the sentimental.

"With a crutch. He will rest on it even at his wedding."