Lennox.
So when noon came the two women pictured Fidelia sitting perched upon a
stool in the store, being fed with candy and cookies, and made much of,
or even eating dinner with the Rose family. "Mis' Rose made so much of
her when you took her there before that I shouldn't wonder a mite if
she'd kept her to dinner," said Aunt Maria. She promulgated this theory
the more strenuously when one o'clock came and Fidelia had not appeared.
"Of course that's what 'tis," she kept repeating. "It would take 'em a
good hour to eat dinner. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if she didn't
get here before two o'clock. I think you're dreadful silly to worry,
Jane."
For poor Mrs. Lennox was pushing her chair every few minutes over to the
door, where she would stand, her face all one anxious frown, straining
her eyes for a glimpse of the small figure trudging up the road. She had
made the blueberry dumpling that Fidelia loved for dinner, and it was
keeping warm on the back of the stove. Neither she nor Aunt Maria had
eaten a mouthful.
When two o'clock came Mrs. Lennox broke down entirely. "Oh dear!" she
wailed; "oh dear! I ought to have known better than to let her go."
Aunt Maria was now pacing heavily between her chair and the door, but
she still maintained a brave front. "For goodness' sake, Jane, don't
give up so," said she. "I don't see anything to worry about, for my
part; they're keepin' her.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36