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So she sped upstairs to Anne's room, and there Anne was actually brushing her hair and wearing precisely that look of evening peace Lydia had seen so many times. "I thought I'd go to bed early," she said, laying down the brush and gathering round her hair to braid it. "Why, Lyd!" It was a hot young messenger invading her calm.
Let's see what we're getting into." He pulled her into the shelter of a giant pine trunk and the two peered at the group around the fire. "Some kind of an Indian pow-wow, half breeds, mostly," whispered Kent. Lydia shivered. "Don't they look fierce in the firelight," she murmured. "Let's get out of here, Kent." "Shucks! Be a sport, Lyd!
A flock of mixed fowls were clucking and pecking over the bare ground under the willows. Martie held the empty tin pan in one hand, in the other was a half-eaten cruller. Sally had turned her serge skirt up over her shoulders as a protection against the cool air, exposing a shabby little "balmoral." "Oh, Lyd, you're an angel!" Martie said, holding the cruller against Lydia's mouth.
"Oh, I just said Lydia's dress was a fright and Kent went off mad." Charlie in turn stared at Lydia. Kent in the meantime was grinning at Lydia amiably. "Hello, Lyd! Want to dance?" "I can't. Don't know how," replied Lydia, despondently. "Easy as anything. Come on, I'll teach you." Lydia seized Kent's lapel with fingers that would tremble slightly. "Kent, I dassn't stir.
"But he's been thinking it over, Lyd, and he's really seriously reconsidering it. You see the instant Pa dies, the Bank will foreclose, for neither you nor I have a cent, and Len is tied up for years with the Estates " Martie began to speak eagerly and quickly. But her voice died before Lydia's look. "Martie! How can you!
It isn't his night at the school." At six o'clock Lydia began to realise that if Esther were going that day she would take the next train. It would not be at all likely that she took the "midnight" and got into New York jaded in the early morning. She put on her hat and coat, and was going softly out when Anne called to her: "Lyd, if you've got a cold you stay in the house."
She had finished her lunch, which she ate in the cloakroom, and bareheaded and coatless was walking up and down the sidewalk before the schoolhouse. "Hello, Lyd! How's everything?" asked Kent. "I haven't seen you to talk to since last spring." "Did you have a fine summer?" said Lydia. "Aw, only part of it.
"Pa might have helped us, only neither you nor I, nor Lyd, ever showed the least interest in work," Sally submitted thoughtfully. "Neither did Len but he MADE Len!" "Yes, I see what you mean," Sally admitted with an awakening face. "But we would have thought he was pretty stern, Mart," she added. "Just as children do when they have to learn to read and write," countered Martie. "Don't you see?"
I used to think Lyd was the loveliest thing in creation in that dress!" Sally was flushed and dimpling; she was not listening. "Mart! I think it's the most exciting thing ! Shall you tell Teddy?" "Sally, I don't dare." A shadow fell across Martie's bright face. In these days she was wistfully tender and gentle with her son.
When she reached the cottage, she stretched out on the couch behind the old base burner with her sense of satisfaction dulled by her hard cough and the feverish taste in her mouth. She was half asleep, half in a stupor when Billy came in. "How's the cold, Lyd?" he asked. "I got it," she murmured hoarsely. "It'll be white mull and pink eider-down."
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