"It sounds like some sort of sewing circle," Josie said.
Pauline sat down in one of the wide window places. "I"m not sure it might not take in both. It is--"The Seeing Winton First Club.""
Josie looked as though she didn"t quite understand, but Tom whistled softly. "What else have you been doing for the past fifteen years, if you please, ma"am?" he asked quizzically.
Pauline laughed. "One ought to know a place rather thoroughly in fifteen years, I suppose; but--I"m hoping we can make it seem at least a little bit new and different this summer--for Hilary. You see, we shan"t be able to send her away, and so, I thought, perhaps, if we tried looking at Winton--with new eyes--"
"I see," Josie cried. "I think it"s a splendiferous ideal"
"And, I thought, if we formed a sort of club among ourselves and worked together--"
"Listen," Josie interrupted again, "we"ll make it a condition of membership, that each one must, in turn, think up something pleasant to do."
"Is the membership to be limited?" Tom asked.
Pauline smiled. "It will be so--necessarily--won"t it?" For Winton was not rich in young people.
"There will be enough of us," Josie declared hopefully.
"Like the model dinner party?" her brother asked. "Not less than the Graces, nor more than the Muses."
And so the new club was formed then and there. There were to be no regular and formal meetings, no dues, nor fines, and each member was to consider himself, or herself, an active member of the programme committee.
Tom, as the oldest member of their immediate circle of friends, was chosen president before that first meeting adjourned; no other officers were considered necessary at the time. And being president, to him was promptly delegated the honor--despite his vigorous protests--of arranging for their first outing and notifying the other members--yet to be.
"But," he expostulated, "what"s a fellow to think up--in a hole like this?"
"Winton isn"t a hole!" his sister protested. It was one of the chief occupations of Josie"s life at present, to contradict all such heretical utterances on Tom"s part. He was to go away that fall to commence his studies for the medical profession, for it was Dr. Brice"s great desire that, later, his son should a.s.sist him in his practice.
But, so far, Tom though wanting to follow his father"s profession, was firm in his determination, not to follow it in Winton.
"And remember," Pauline said, as the three went down-stairs together, "that it"s the first step that counts--and to think up something very delightful, Tom."
"It mustn"t be a picnic, I suppose? Hilary won"t be up to picnics yet awhile."
"N-no, and we want to begin soon. She"ll be back Friday, I think,"
Pauline answered.
By Wednesday night the spare room was ready for the expected guest.
"It"s as if someone had waved a fairy wand over it, isn"t it?" Patience said delightedly. "Hilary"ll be so surprised."
"I think she will and--pleased." Pauline gave one of the cushions in the cozy corner a straightening touch, and drew the window shades--Miranda had taken them down and turned them--a little lower.
"It"s a regular company room, isn"t it?" Patience said joyously.
The minister drove over to The Maples himself on Friday afternoon to bring Hilary home.
"Remember," Patience pointed a warning forefinger at him, just as he was starting, "not a single solitary hint!"
"Not a single solitary one," he promised.
As he turned out of the gate. Patience drew a long breath. "Well, he"s off at last! But, oh, dear, however can we wait "til he gets back?"
CHAPTER V
BEDELIA
It was five o"clock that afternoon when Patience, perched, a little white-clad sentry, on the gate-post, announced joyously--"They"re coming! They"re coming!"
Patience was as excited as if the expected "guest" were one in fact, as well as name. It was fun to be playing a game of make-believe, in which the elders took part.
As the gig drew up before the steps, Hilary looked eagerly out. "Will you tell me," she demanded, "why father insisted on coming "round the lower road, by the depot--he didn"t stop, and he didn"t get any parcel?
And when I asked him, he just laughed and looked mysterious."
"He went," Pauline answered, "because we asked him to--company usually comes by train--real out-of-town company, you know."
"Like visiting ministers and returned missionaries," Patience explained.
Hilary looked thoroughly bewildered. "But are you expecting company?
You must be," she glanced from one to another, "you"re all dressed up,"
"We were expecting some, dear," her mother told her, "but she has arrived."
"Don"t you see? You"re it!" Patience danced excitedly about her sister.
"I"m the company!" Hilary said wonderingly. Then her eyes lighted up.
"I understand! How perfectly dear of you all."
Mrs. Shaw patted the hand Hilary slipped into hers. "You have come back a good deal better than you went, my dear. The change has done you good."
"And it didn"t turn out a stupid--half-way affair, after all," Hilary declared. "I"ve had a lovely time. Only, I simply had to come home, I felt somehow--that--that--"
"We were expecting company?" Pauline laughed. "And you wanted to be here?"
"I reckon that was it," Hilary agreed. As she sat there, resting a moment, before going up-stairs, she hardly seemed the same girl who had gone away so reluctantly only eight days before. The change of scene, the outdoor life, the new friendship, bringing with it new interests, had worked wonders,
"And now," Pauline suggested, taking up her sister"s valise, "perhaps you would like to go up to your room--visitors generally do."
"To rest after your journey, you know," Patience prompted. Patience believed in playing one"s part down to the minutest detail.
"Thank you," Hilary answered, with quite the proper note of formality in her voice, "if you don"t mind; though I did not find the trip as fatiguing as I had expected."
But from the door, she turned back to give her mother a second and most uncompany-like hug. "It is good to be home, Mother Shaw! And please, you don"t want to pack me off again anywhere right away--at least, all by myself?"
"Not right away," her mother answered, kissing her.