CHAPTER III

MRS. TODD INTERVENES

"What are you in such a hurry with your breakfast for, child?" Martha, her hands on her big hips, stood in the doorway between the dining-room and the kitchen, and looked at Janet with mild curiosity.

It was a gray, misty morning, with a salty taste and feel to everything. Janet looked up from her place where, with the assistance of Boru, she was finishing the last strip of bacon on her plate.

"I want to go over to the Waters' to see how Roy is," she explained only half truthfully, for her thoughts were almost entirely centered on the hope of finding the letter she had lost the night before.

"Well, dearie me, that's no reason for bolting your food," Martha protested, but she let the matter drop and went back into her kitchen.

Without waiting to stop at her grandmother's room, Janet hurried out of the house and started for the village. She kept her eyes on the road, but the Waters' cottage was reached without a sign of the missing white envelope.

Harry was lurking in the doorway of the barn, and Janet called a cheery greeting to him. There was no sign of the boy with the torn straw hat.

"How's my patient" she asked.

"Ah, he's all right." Harry was still a little resentful, for he was thinking of the snake. Janet had completely forgotten it.

Roy, at the first sound of her voice, got up from his place in the hay and wagged his tail. Janet knelt and inspected the paw.

"It's a whole lot better, isn't it, old fellow?" she asked as she patted him. "Keep it clean and don't walk on it," she advised seriously.

Harry, watching her, laughed.

"You'd think Roy was a human being to hear you go on. He doesn't know what you're talking about," he said.

Janet did not reply, but she smiled into the dog's eyes, and Harry had an uncomfortable feeling that they were both laughing at him.

As she talked, Janet made a careful search for the letter but it was nowhere to be seen, and with a sinking feeling at her heart she realized that some one must have found it. But whom? She knelt on the floor beside Roy, and the thought worried her brain. If Mrs. Waters had it she would, of course, take it to Mrs. Page and then--she shrugged her shoulders. It was foolish to worry over it anyway, until something happened. It would be a simple matter to write another, but somehow the spirit that had prompted her to revolt the day before was gone.

"What are you doing anyway?"--Harry interrupted her musings. She gave a characteristic little shrug and jumped up.

"Nothing much," she replied, laughing.

Harry had been doing some thinking himself for the last few minutes, and he had come to the decision that it never paid to get mad at Janet, for no matter how cross you acted she never even bothered to notice you. So it was with a very different tone of voice that he asked as she started for home:

"Do you care if I go along with you?"

"No, come on if you want to," Janet replied, and together they walked down the path.

"Let's stop at the post office," Janet suggested, her thoughts, in spite of her determination to forget it, still on the letter.

As they neared the little, low, red-brick building almost covered by dark green ivy that served as post office and general store for Old Chester, they noticed a horse and cart with bright yellow wheels drawn up at the curb. The harness was new and shining, and the horse, a beautiful sorrel with slender legs, tossed his head impatiently.

"Why, who does that belong to?" Janet exclaimed.

"Dunno," Harry was not particularly interested. "Guess it's Mrs. Todd's. I heard mother talking about her last night. She is visiting at the rectory, 'cause she's a cousin or something of Mrs. Blake's." The door of the post office opened and he lowered his voice. "Here she comes now."

Janet looked up and saw a tall, mannish-looking woman, dressed in a rough serge suit and heavy boots, coming toward them. She had on a soft gray felt hat without any trimming, and she carried a market basket over her arm. Her eyes were small but they were so very blue and penetrating that Janet felt they must be making holes in the back of her head.

"Hello, whose children are you?" she demanded rather than asked as she put her basket into the cart She turned to Harry. "You're Harry Waters. I know but you." She scrutinized Janet, and suddenly her face softened and she put one big hand on her slender shoulder.

"You're a Page," she said. "The Pages all have straight short noses. Wait a minute and let me think. Haven't you a sister?"

Janet shook her head and smiled. It was a merry smile, for she suddenly realized that she liked this queer, outspoken woman very much.

"No, I haven't a sister," she replied. "I wish I had. I have a brother and a grandmother, and I think that's all, except Boru." She looked down at the dog who was sniffing at the stranger's skirts. "Your horse is a beauty," she added shyly.

"Like him? So do I. Suppose you drive me home; that is, to the rectory. I am staying there, and my name is Ann Todd. Here you are! Jump in, Harry. If you can wind up those fat legs of yours you will just fit in the back."

Janet had hard work not to show her surprise, for it was even greater than her delight. She had never, in all her short life, met any one who out off their sentences as though they were clipping threads and who made up their minds so quickly.

They reached the rectory before she could think of anything to say, and then all she could stammer was, "Oh, thank you ever so much; it was simply thrilling."

Alice and Mildred Blake were sitting in the tiny little flower garden, both busy with yards of green bunting which they were sewing together in long strips. They looked up in surprise as they saw Janet and Harry.

"Oh, Janet, will your grandmother really let you; isn't that wonderful!" they exclaimed.

Janet was utterly bewildered. "What are you talking about!" she demanded. "Will my grandmother let me do what!"

Alice and Mildred looked at each other in confusion, and then at Mrs. Todd.

"We thought--" Alice began.

"Cousin Ann and mother said--" finished Mildred.

Mrs. Todd laughed heartily at their embarrassment and put her arm around Janet.

"Perhaps I can explain," she said. "The girls are talking about the church fair. Their mother said something last night about your grandmother's never letting you take any part in it, and I said that I would undertake to see that you came this year, and so I will." Her jaw snapped with such decision as she said these words that Janet almost jumped.

"That's awfully nice of you," she replied politely, "but grandmother's mind is rather hard to change. I never try."

"Why won't she let you?" Alice asked timidly.

"I hardly remember,"--Janet laughed. "It's so long since I ceased to come. I was ten then and I thought it would be such fun, but--well, I didn't, and I've never asked since. I think being out late was one of the reasons."

"Humph!" was all Mrs. Todd had to say, but a few minutes later she offered to drive Janet home.

"And I'll stop in and say 'how do you do,' too, while I'm there," she decided.

On the way, as they bowled along the soft sandy road, Janet worried a little. It was luncheon time, and her grandmother never saw visitors until after three o'clock, but it would be quite useless even to try to explain this to Mrs. Todd, for in her own way she was just as positive and determined as the eccentric Mrs. Page.

"Grim as ever,"--Mrs. Todd laughed as the house came into view. "It's twenty years since I opened that front door but, bless my soul, I know that everything is going to be just the same."

"Why, did you ever live here!" Janet looked at her companion in surprise.

"I did, and I was in this house almost as much as I was in my own. Your father and I were the best of friends."

"Oh!" was all Janet had time to say, before Martha appeared at the door.

Mrs. Todd nodded to her and tied the horse to the garden gate and walked slowly up the narrow, moss-grown walk, a whimsical smile on her thin face.

Martha was speechless, and Janet had to laugh as she watched her curl one end of her apron into a hard little knot.

"Well, Martha,"--Mrs. Todd held out her hand--"don't look as though you had seen a ghost."

Martha managed to say something, but she was quite powerless to stop the visitor from striding into the house and walking unannounced into Mrs. Page's room.

Janet sat down on the stone seat in the garden and waited. Boru stretched out on the path at her feet and panted after his run. Not a sound came from the house.

Janet did not try to imagine what was going on in her grandmother's room. She was conscious that a big change had come into her life, and she dimly realized that in the future she would spend more time in thinking than she had ever spent before. It seemed as though she was conscious of the world around her, and instead of just accepting it she felt that she was a part of it.

"Janet Page," she said aloud, and stared hard at the old sun-dial. Suddenly Boru barked, and she jumped as though she had been wakened from a dream. The dog rushed to the corner of the garden, and Janet looked up just in time to see the rim of a torn straw hat disappear over the wall.