"'Yes, we are all well, thank you. Father is busy, of course; Jane has run over to Mrs. Jacobs's for a pattern; Eliza is writing letters; and Susan is somewhere about the house. Annie -- well, Annie --George Wells asked her to go to the concert -- Irather --' Then," said Benny, in his natural voice, "Imogen stopped, and she could say truthfully that she didn't lie, but anybody would have thought from what she said that you had gone to the concert with George Wells.""Did Tom inquire for me?" asked Annie, in a low voice.
"Didn't have a chance. Imogen got ahead of him.""Oh, well, then it doesn't matter. I dare say he did come to see Imogen.""He didn't," said Benny, stoutly. "And that isn't all. Say, Annie --""What?"
"Are you going to marry George Wells? It is none of my business, but are you?"Annie laughed a little, although her face was still pale. She had folded the omelet and was carefully watching it.
"You need not worry about that, Benny dear,"she said.
"Then what right have the girls to tell so many people the nice things they hear you say about him?"Annie removed the omelet skilfully from the pan to a hot plate, which she set on the range shelf, and turned to her brother.
"What nice things do they hear me say?"
"That he is so handsome; that he has such a good position; that he is the very best young man in the place; that you should think every girl would be head over heels in love with him; that every word he speaks is so bright and clever."Annie looked at her brother.
"I don't believe you ever said one of those things,"remarked Benny.
Annie continued to look at him.
"Did you?"
"Benny dear, I am not going to tell you.""You won't say you never did, because that would be putting your sisters in the wrong and admitting that they tell lies. Annie, you are a dear, but I do think you are doing wrong and spoiling them as much as they say you are spoiling me.""Perhaps I am," said Annie. There was a strange, tragic expression on her keen, pretty little face.
She looked as if her mind was contemplating strenu-ous action which was changing her very features.
She had covered the finished omelet and was now cooking another.
"I wish you would see if everybody is in the house and ready, Benny," said she. "When this omelet is done they must come right away, or nothing will be fit to eat. And, Benny dear, if you don't mind, please get the butter and the cream-pitcher out of the ice-chest. I have everything else on the table.""There is another thing," said Benny. "I don't go about telling tales, but I do think it is time you knew. The girls tell everybody that you like to do the housework so much that they don't dare inter-fere. And it isn't so. They may have taught them-selves to think it is so, but it isn't. You would like a little time for fancy-work and reading as well as they do.""Please get the cream and butter, and see if they are all in the house," said Annie. She spoke as usual, but the strange expression remained in her face. It was still there when the family were all gathered at the table and she was serving the puffy omelet. Jane noticed it first.
"What makes you look so odd, Annie?" said she.
"I don't know how I look odd," replied Annie.
They all gazed at her then, her father with some anxiety. "You don't look yourself," he said. "You are feeling well, aren't you, Annie?""Quite well, thank you, father."
But after the omelet was served and the tea poured Annie rose.
"Where are you going, Annie?" asked Imogen, in her sarcastic voice.
"To my room, or perhaps out in the orchard.""It will be sopping wet out there after the shower,"said Eliza. "Are you crazy, Annie?"
"I have on my black skirt, and I will wear rub-bers," said Annie, quietly. "I want some fresh air.""I should think you had enough fresh air. You were outdoors all the afternoon, while we were cooped up in the house," said Jane.
"Don't you feel well, Annie?" her father asked again, a golden bit of omelet poised on his fork, as she was leaving the room.
"Quite well, father dear."
"But you are eating no supper."
"I have always heard that people who cook don't need so much to eat," said Imogen. "They say the essence of the food soaks in through the pores.""I am quite well," Annie repeated, and the door closed behind her.
"Dear Annie! She is always doing odd things like this," remarked Jane.
"Yes, she is, things that one cannot account for, but Annie is a dear," said Susan.
"I hope she is well," said Annie's father.
"Oh, she is well enough. Don't worry, father,"said Imogen. "Dear Annie is always doing the unexpected. She looks very well.""Yes, dear Annie is quite stout, for her," said Jane.
"I think she is thinner than I have ever seen her, and the rest of you look like stuffed geese," said Benny, rudely.
Imogen turned upon him in dignified wrath.
"Benny, you insult your sisters," said she. "Father, you should really tell Benny that he should bridle his tongue a little.""You ought to bridle yours, every one of you,"retorted Benny. "You girls nag poor Annie every single minute. You let her do all the work, then you pick at her for it."There was a chorus of treble voices. "We nag dear Annie! We pick at dear Annie! We make her do everything! Father, you should remonstrate with Benjamin. You know how we all love dear Annie!""Benjamin," began Silas Hempstead, but Benny, with a smothered exclamation, was up and out of the room.
Benny quite frankly disliked his sisters, with the exception of Annie. For his father he had a sort of respectful tolerance. He could not see why he should have anything else. His father had never done anything for him except to admonish him. His scanty revenue for his support and college expenses came from his maternal grandmother, who had been a woman of parts and who had openly scorned her son-in-law.
