Phoebe Deane (Romance Classic). Grace Livingston Hill
and came over by the table as they sat down. The cat, by the way, was yellow, too.
It was a delicious meal, and Phoebe ate it with the appetite gained in her long walk. After it was over she bade Granny McVane good-evening, kissed her for the beautiful ending to her birthday, and hurried guiltily across the fields to the farm-house she called home, not allowing herself to think of what was before her until she reached the very door, for she would not have one moment of her precious day spoiled.
The family had just sat down to supper when Phoebe opened the door and came in. She had hoped this ceremony would be over, for the usual hour for supper was half past five, but Emmeline had waited longer than usual, thinking Phoebe would surely come back to help, and having it all to do herself had not been able to get it ready as soon as usual. Moreover, an undertone of apprehension as to what Albert might say if Phoebe should be headstrong enough to remain away after dark, kept her going to the window to look up the road for the possible sight of a girlish figure in a curious yellow frock. Emmeline had been angry, astonished, and bewildered all the afternoon. She had not been able to decide what she would do about the way her young sister-in- law had acted. She had been a little anxious, too, lest she had gone too far, and would be blamed if the truth should be known. She would have been glad, many times during the afternoon, to have seen Phoebe meekly returning, but now that she had come, after staying away till the work was done and Albert had come home and found out her absence, Emmeline's wrath was kindled anew. She stood at the hearth taking up the second pan of johnnycake when the girl came in, and when she saw Phoebe apparently as cheerful as if she had stayed at home and done her duty all the afternoon, Emmeline set her lips in cold and haughty disapproval.
Alma, with her mouth full of fried potatoes, stopped her fork midway with another supply and stared. The little boys chorused in unison: " Hello, Aunt Phoebe! Where'd'ye get the clo'es!" Hank, who was just helping himself to a slice of bread with his fork, turned full around and after the first glimpse of the girl in her unfamiliar garments he sat in awed embarrassment. Only Albert sat in pleased surprise, his knife and fork akimbo on his plate, his chair tipped back, and a look of real welcome in his face.
"Well, now, Phoebe, I'm real glad you've got back. I was getting uneasy about you, off so long. It isn't like you to stay away from your meals. My, but you do look pretty in that rig! What took you, anyway ? Where've you been ? "
Not to the others would she have told for the world, but somehow Albert's pleasant tones and kindly eyes unsealed her lips, and without a thought she spoke:
" I've just been for a walk in the woods this afternoon, and I stopped a few minutes to see Granny McVane. She made me stay to tea with her. I did not mean to stay so late."
" That sounds very sweet, I'm sure," broke in Emmeline's sharp voice, " but she forgets that she left me with all her work to do on top of my own."
Phoebe's cheeks flushed.
" I am sorry I did not get back in time to help get supper," she said, looking straight at Albert as if explaining to him alone, "but it was my birthday, and I thought I might take a little time to myself."
" Your birthday! To be sure you can. You don't go out half enough. Emmeline, you wouldn't want her to work all day on her birthday, of course. Sit down, child, and have some more supper. This is real good johnnycake; have a piece? You ought to have told us before that you had a birthday, and then we might have celebrated. Eh, Hank! What do you say ? "
" I say, yes," said Hank, chuckling in a vain endeavor to regain his usual composure. He had visions of a certain red ribbon at the village store that he might have bought her, or a green glass breastpin. He watched her furtively and wondered if it was too late yet to improve the occasion.
" Other people have birthdays too, and I don't see much fuss made over 'em either," sniffed Emmeline, flinging the tea towel up to its nail with an impatient movement. She had burned her finger, and her temper burned in sympathy.
" Thank you, Albert," said Phoebe, quietly, " I don't care for any more supper. I will go up and change my frock and be ready to wash the dishes."
She was going toward the door, but Albert detained her.
" Wait, Phoebe! You come here and sit down. I've got something to tell you. I'd clean forgot about the birthday myself, but now I remember all right. Let's see, you're eighteen to-day, aren't you? I thought so."
'Hank lifted bold, admiring eyes to her face, and the girl, standing patiently behind her chair at the table waiting for her brother to finish, felt she would like to extinguish him for a little while till the conference was over.
"Well, now, child, I've got a surprise for you. You're eighteen, and of age, so you've got a right to know it."
"Wouldn't it be better for you to tell me by and by when the work is done? " pleaded Phoebe, casting a frightened glance about on the wide-eyed, interested audience.
" No," said Albert, genially, looking about the room. " It isn't a secret, leastways not from any that's here. You needn't look so scared, child. If s only that there's a little money coming to you, about five or six hundred dollars. It's a nice tidy little sum for a girl eighteen with good prospects. You certainly deserve it, for you've been a good girl ever since you came to live with us. Your mother wanted me to keep the money for you till you was eighteen, and then she said you would know how to use it and be more likely to need it."
" Say, Aunt Phoebe," broke in Alma, tilting her turn-up nose to its most inquisitive point, and sticking out her chin in a grown-up manner she had copied after her mother, " does Hiram Green know you got a birthday ? "
" Shut up!" said Emmeline, applying the palm of her hand in a stinging slap to her offspring's cheek.
" Sister! Sister! " said Albert, in gentle reproof. " Now, Emmeline, don't be so severe with the child! She doesn't realize how impertinent she is. Sister, you mustn't talk like that to Aunt Phoebe." Then in an aside to Hank, with a wink, " It does beat all how keen children will be sometimes."
Phoebe, with scarlet cheeks, felt as if she could bear no more. " Thank you, Albert," she said, with a voice that would tremble despite her best efforts. " Now if you will excuse me I'll change my frock."
"Wait a minute, child; that's a mighty pretty frock you've got on. Look pretty as a peach in it. Let's have a look at you. Where'd you get it ? Make it yourself ? "
" Mother made it for me to wear to-day," said Phoebe, in a low voice, and then she vanished into the hall, leaving somehow an impression of victory behind her, and a sense of embarrassment among the family.
" There'll be no livin' with her now," snapped Emmeline over the tea-cups. " I'm sure I thought you had better sense.
You never told me there was any money left for her, or I would advised you about it. It wasn't necessary to tell her anything about it. I'm sure we've spent for her, and if there's anything left her it belongs to you. Here she's had a good home, and paid not a cent for it, and had everything just the same as us. If she had any spirit of right she wouldn't touch a cent of that money!"
" Now look here, Emmeline," said Albert, in his kind, conciliatory tone. " You don't quite understand this matter. Not having known about it before of course you couldn't judge rightly. And as it was her ma's request that I didn't tell anybody, I couldn't very well tell you. Besides, I don't see why it should affect you any. The money was hers, and we’d nothing to do with it. As for her home here, she's been very welcome, and I'm sure she's earned her way. She's a good worker, Phoebe is."
" Thats so, she is," assented Hank, warmly. " I don't know a girl in the county can beat her workin'."
" I don't know as anybody asked your opinion, Hank Williams. I'm able to judge of work a little myself, and if she works well, who taught her? She'd never done a stroke when she came here, and nobody thinks of the hard time I've had breakin' her in, and puttin' up with her mistakes when she was young and her hands lily white, and soft as a baby's."
" Now, Emmeline, don't go and get excited," said Albert, anxiously. "You know we ain't letting go a mite of what you've done. Only its fair to the girl to say she's earned her way."
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