Harper's Round Table, July 2, 1895 Part 5

Edith walked up to them with determination written on her face, and grasped each child tightly by the hand. The roars increased, and Cynthia concluded that it was about time to interfere.

"Come down-stairs with me," she said, "and I'll give you some nice crackers. And very soon one of the men is going over to Pelham to take the farm-horses to be shod. Who would like to go?"

This idea was seized upon with avidity. The three departed in search of the crackers, and quiet reigned once more. When Cynthia came back Edith said nothing for a few minutes. Then she remarked:

"Those children in the book were not _quite_ as provoking as ours, but I suppose I ought to have begun right away to be gentle. Somehow, Cynthia, you always seem to know just what to say to everybody. I _wish_ I did!

Janet and w.i.l.l.y both mind you a great deal better than they do me."

She was interrupted by a shout of joy from Cynthia.

"Edith, Edith, do look at this! Aunt Betsey's extra false front! She left it behind. Don't you know she told me to put it away? It's a wonder she hasn't sent for it. There, look!"

Edith turned with a brush in one hand and a dust-pan in the other, which dropped with a clatter when she saw her sister.

Cynthia had drawn back her own curly bang, and fastened on the smooth brown hair of her great-aunt. The puffs adorned either side of her rosy face, and she was for all the world exactly like Miss Betsey Trinkett, whose eyes were as blue and nose as straight as those of fourteen-year-old Cynthia, who was always said to greatly resemble her.

"You're the very image of her," laughed Edith. "No one would ever know you apart, if you had on a bonnet and shawl like hers."

"Edith," exclaimed Cynthia, "I have an idea! I'm going to dress up and make Jack think Aunt Betsey has come back. He'll never know me in the world, and it will be such fun to get a rise out of him."

Cynthia's enthusiasm was contagious, and Edith, leaving bureau drawers standing open and boxes uncovered, hurried off to find the desired articles.

Cynthia was soon dressed in exact reproduction of Aunt Betsey's usual costume, with a figured black-lace veil over her face, and, as luck would have it, Jack was at that moment seen coming up the drive. She hastily descended to the parlor, where she and Edith were discovered in conversation when Jack entered the house.

"Holloa, Aunt Betsey!" he exclaimed, as he kissed her unsuspectingly.

"Have you come back?"

"Yes, Jackie," said a prim New England voice with a slightly provincial accent. "I thought I'd like to hear about those little orphan chicks, and so I said to Silas, said I, Silas--"

Edith darted from her chair to a distant window, and Cynthia was obliged to break off abruptly, or she would have laughed aloud. Jack, however, took no notice. The mention of the chickens was enough for him.

"Don't you want to come down and see the machine? I say, Aunt Betsey, you were a regular brick to send me the money. Did you get my letter?"

"Yes, Jackie, and I hope you are reading the book carefully. You will learn a great deal from it, about hens."

"Yes. Well, I haven't got any hens yet. Look out for these stairs, Aunt Betsey. They're rather dangerous."

This was too much for Cynthia. To be warned about the cellar stairs, over which she gayly tripped at least a dozen times a day, was the crowning joke of the performance. She sat down on the lowest step and shouted with laughter. Jack, who was studying his thermometer, turned in surprise.

It was too good. Cynthia tossed up her veil, and turned her crimson face to her brother.

"Oh, Jack, Jack, I have you this time! Oh, oh, oh! I never dreamed you would be so taken in!" And she danced up and down with glee.

Jack's first feeling was one of anger. How stupid he had been! Then his sense of the ludicrous overcame him, and he joined in the mirth, laughing until the tears rolled down his face.

"It's too good to be wasted," he said, as soon as he could speak. "Why don't you go and see somebody? Go to those dear friends of Aunt Betsey's, the Parkers."

"I will, I will!" cried Cynthia. "I'll go right away now. Jack, you can drive me there."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Edith. "They would be sure to find you out, and it would be all over town. You sha'n't do it, Cynthia."

"They'll never find me out. If Jack, my own twin brother, didn't, I'm sure they wouldn't. I'm going! Hurry up, Jack, and harness the horse."

Jack went up the stairs like lightning, and was off to the barn. All Edith's pleadings and expostulations were in vain. Cynthia could be very determined when she pleased, and this time she had made up her mind to pay no attention to the too-cautious Edith.

She waved farewell to her sister in exact imitation of Aunt Betsey's gesture, and drove away by Jack's side in the old buggy.

They drew up at the Parkers' door, and Jack politely a.s.sisted "Aunt Betsey" from the carriage. He ran up the steps and rang the bell for her, and then, taking his place again in the buggy, he drove off to a shady spot, and waited for his supposed aunt to reappear.

"Don't be too long," he had whispered at parting.

It seemed hours, but it was really only twenty minutes later, when the front door opened, and the quaint little figure descended the steps amid voluble good-byes.

"So glad to have seen you, my dear Miss Trinkett! I never saw you looking so well or so young. You are a marvel. And you won't repeat that little piece of news I told you, will you? You will probably hear it all in good time. Good-by!"

It was a very quiet and depressed Aunt Betsey who got into the carriage and drove away with Jack, very different from the gay little lady who had entered the Parkers' gates.

"Well, was it a success? Did she know you? Tell us about it," said Jack, eagerly.

"Jack, don't ask me a word."

"Why? I say, what's up? What's the matter? Did she find you out?"

"No, of course not. She never guessed it. But--but--oh, Jack, she told me something."

"But what was it?"

"I--I don't believe I can tell you!"

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE KNAVE OF HEARTS

A Fourth-of-July Play in One Act.

BY ALBERT LEE.

_CHARACTERS_:

QUEEN OF CLUBS.

QUEEN OF HEARTS.

QUEEN OF SPADES.