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He felt sure she would disapprove of his running away, and would probably insist upon his going straight back to Upton or, at least, informing Aunt Harriet of his whereabouts. No, he could not tell her. Clemantiny was an early riser, but when she came into the kitchen the next morning the fire was already made and Chester was out in the yard with three of the five cows milked.
But there's something behind, Salome Whitney mark my words, there's something behind." "He looks so like Johnny," said Miss Salome wistfully. "And I suppose you think that covers a multitude of sins," said Clemantiny contemptuously. On the day when the last load of rustling golden sheaves was carried into the big barn and stowed away in the dusty loft, Miss Salome called Chester into the kitchen.
He knew this, but he could not trust himself to speak. Then did Clemantiny arise in her righteous indignation. "Well, I never heard of such nonsense, Salome Whitney! What on earth do you want to send him back for? I knew Harriet Elwell years ago, and if she's still what she was then, it ain't much wonder Chester ran away from her. I'd say 'run, too. Go back, indeed!
But he would not let Clemantiny see him cry. Somehow, he would not have minded Miss Salome. "What are you thinking of doing now?" Miss Salome went on. "There's a man at East Hopedale wants a boy," said Chester, "and Martin says he thinks I'll suit." "That is Jonas Smallman," said Miss Salome thoughtfully. "He has the name of being a hard master. It isn't right of me to say so, perhaps.
Chester thought he had never in all his life tasted anything so good as that broth. The boy was really almost starved. He drank every drop of it. Clemantiny gave a grunt of satisfaction as she handed the empty bowl and spoon to the silent, smiling Miss Salome. "Now, who are you and what do you want?" she said.
"It's that worthless dog of Martin's, I suppose," said Clemantiny, grasping a broom handle with a grimness that boded ill for the dog. "Mussing up my clean doorstep with his dirty paws again. I'll fix him!" Clemantiny swept out through the porch and jerked open the door. There was a moment's silence. Then Miss Salome heard her say, "For the land's sake! Salome Whitney, come here."
And they keep ever so much better baked, Salome you know they do. My grandmother always baked hers, and they would keep for three years." Miss Salome knew that when Clemantiny dragged her grandmother into the question, it was time to surrender. Beyond that, dignity degenerated into stubbornness.
"And now perhaps you'll explain what you mean by fainting away on doorsteps and scaring people out of their senses." Chester thought that this must be the mistress of Mount Hope Farm, and hastened to propitiate her. "I'm sorry," he faltered feebly. "I didn't mean to I " "You're not to do any talking until you've had something to eat," snapped Clemantiny inconsistently.
They got home that night just as the sun was setting redly behind the great maples on the western hill. As they drove into the yard, Clemantiny's face appeared, gazing at them over the high board fence of the cow-yard. Chester waved his hand at her gleefully. "Lawful heart!" said Clemantiny. She set down her pail and came out to the lane on a run.
"Don't suppose she would have grieved much if he had," said Clemantiny sarcastically, all the while watching Chester, until he felt as if she were boring into his very soul and reading all his past life. When the harvest season drew to a close, dismay crept into the soul of our hero. Where would he go now? He hated to think of leaving Mount Hope Farm and Miss Salome.
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