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Finally, one hazy Saturday afternoon, she gathered a great bunch of many colored asters and started off, without telling Lizzie of her destination. It was nearly five o'clock when she stopped at the Marshalls' gate. The front of the house was closed, but nothing daunted, she made her way round to the kitchen door, which was open. Elviry answered her rap. "Oh, it's Lydia," she said, brusquely.
Lydia, in a remodeled coat of her mother's, and her old Tam and mended mittens, recovered from her surprise quickly. "Hello!" she said. "When did you come? This is the first time you've ever been in our house, Mrs. Marshall, isn't it?" "Yes," replied Elviry, "and," with a glance at Lizzie, "I wouldn't be here now if Mr. Marshall hadn't made me." "Oh, Mamma," protested Margery, "I wanted to come."
"'Elviry, how many up-stairs rooms is there in that house down on the Sound? "'Four, besides three small ones under the roof. Why, what made you think of that, Jesse? said she. "'I've got an idea, while Abel's been talking, he answered. 'We've taken a house for the summer, down the other side of Bridgeport, right on the water, where there's good fishing and a fine view of the Sound.
"None of your business," replied Lizzie. "I don't think Imogen is as good looking as Marion. I'd rather have Marion marry Prince Rupert, then these can be their children," Margery murmured on. "Land, Lizzie, don't be so cross," said Elviry. "I suppose you've heard the talk about John Levine? He's getting in with that half breed crowd up on the reservation that the Indian agent's such friends with.
"Why, Margery, you are fifteen!" "I don't care," replied Lydia obstinately. "I still play 'em once in a while." "I haven't touched one since last spring," said Margery. "Want to see my New York clothes?" "No, thank you," answered Lydia. "I'd just as soon not. I've got to get home right away." "What's in that big bundle?" asked Elviry, pointing to the huge paper parcel in Lydia's lap.
"If you want to lick any one, go lick Elviry Marshall, the fool! Why, I knew her when she was my niece's hired girl and you, Dave Marshall, was selling cans of tomatoes over a counter. And she's bringing that young one up to be a silly little fool. Mark my words, she'll be the prey of the first fortune-hunter that comes along."
There's dog hair everywhere." "Don't you get worked up over Elviry Marshall, child," said Lizzie. "I hate her," exclaimed Lydia, "but what she said about the house is true. Anyhow, I've learned how to clean pantry shelves, so here goes." She tied one of Lizzie's aprons round her neck, pushed a chair into the pantry and began her unsavory task.
When Elviry Prooner had consented to come as temporary companion for Dorothy, it seemed merely an adventitious happening that Sim, too, felt the call of the road. "I don't know es I've named hit to ye afore, Parish," he volunteered the next day as the three sat around the dinner table, "but I've got a cousin thet used ter be more like a brother ter me an' he got inter some leetle trouble."
Elviry Prooner had gone away when Bas arrived, and the strokes of Sim Squires' axe sounded from a distant patch of woods, so she was alone with her visitor. Bas planted his feet wide apart and stood with an offensive manner of proprietorship on the hearth, toasting himself in the grateful warmth. "We've done got along right well tergether, little gal," he deigned to announce.
Why I was ever such a fool as to let you spend a summer in New York, I don't know." "Now, Dave," said Elviry in a conciliating tone, "you said that Lydia and Amos ought to be warned about Levine." "Yes, I did," exclaimed Dave, with a sudden change of voice. "You tell your father to come round and see me this evening, Lydia. I don't like his attitude on the reservation question.
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