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Just then the door opened and Miss Jane Maythorne, Peace's aunt, came in. She was a tall, thin, sallow-faced woman, with angular shoulders and a sharp chin.
Her lips involuntary catch the chime And half articulate the soothing rhyme; Till weary thought no longer watch can keep, But sinks reluctant in the folds of sleep of which it can only be said that any schoolboy could write it; his not infrequent depths from the couplet: Her airy guard prepares the softest down From Peace's wing to line the nuptial crown.
Peace's observations were sometimes positively uncanny, and as she voiced this sentiment, the Lilac Lady asked curiously, "How do you know that is her reason? Did she tell you, or did Mildred?" "Neither one. I heard Mrs. Porter tell Elspeth yesterday that Miss Kinney had cold feet; so after she was gone, I asked about it.
She expected to be told to mind her business, but contrary to her expectations, Faith answered: "This is the saddest story, all about a girl who loved one man and had to marry another." Peace's nose curled scornfully, and she said, with great contempt, "I don't see any use in bawl crying about that. Those story people never lived. Real folks have more sense."
According to Peace's story he was a slighted lover who had been treated by Mrs. Dyson with contumely and ingratitude.
And he was so upset by the extraordinary muddle in which he found his nephew's home, once all prosperity, that remorse came upon him as if he were in some degree responsible for what had happened, since he had egotistically kept away from his relatives for his own peace's sake.
She began to feel some anxiety, for she fancied she felt their hot breath coming through chinks in the door. But Zoe ushered Labordette in, and the young woman gave a little shout of relief. He was anxious to tell her about an account he had settled for her at the justice of peace's court. But she did not attend and said: "I'll take you along with me.
He dropped the slip of paper into her hands as he resumed his seat, and she read in tipsy, scrawling letters Peace's poster: "It won't do enny good to raket or holler to us. We can't talk for an hour. If you want to ask queshuns go to grandpa he is boss of this roost."
Twenty-eight cents." "Then I think we ought to get more'n fifty cents, 'cause we mean to have a good program." Hector felt as if a dash of cold water had suddenly struck his face, but he was quite accustomed to Peace's characteristics by this time, so did not resent her implied doubtful compliment, but asked, with somewhat more of interest in his manner, "Who's going to be in it?"
When I asked him what career he had chosen he said, "Business!" without any waste of words. I think that he will succeed in a way to surprise his family. It is he and all those young Americans of whom he is a type, as distinctive of America in manner, looks, and thought as a Frenchman is of France or a German of Germany, who carried the torch of Peace's kindly work into war-ridden Belgium.
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