The two women watched Miss Mattie scudding blithely over the trail which, as she said, Roger had worn in the grass.  Miriam looked after her gloomily, but Barbara was laughing.

“Don’t look so cross, Aunty,” chided Barbara.  “No one ever came here who was so easy to entertain.”

“Humph,” grunted Miriam, and went out.

[Sidenote:  Relief]

But even Barbara sighed in relief when she was left alone.  She understood some of Roger’s difficulties of which he never spoke, and realised that the much-maligned “Bascom liver” could not be held responsible for all his discontent.

She wondered what Roger’s father had been like, and did not wonder that he was unhappy, if his nature was in any way akin to his son’s.  But her mother?  How could she have failed to appreciate the beautiful old father whom Barbara loved with all the passion and strength of her young heart!

[Sidenote:  The Secret]

“He mustn’t know,” said Barbara to herself, for the hundredth time.  “Father must never know.”

VIII

A Fairy Godmother

[Sidenote:  The Postponed Visit]

As cool and fresh as the June morning of which she seemed a veritable part, Miss Eloise Wynne, immaculately clad in white linen, opened the little grey gate.  It was a week later than she had promised to come, but she had not been idle, and considered herself justified for the delay.

Miriam opened the door for her and introduced Barbara.  Eloise smiled radiantly as she offered a smooth, well-kept hand.  “I know I’m late,” she said, “but I think you’ll forgive me for it a little later on.  I want to see all the lingerie—­every piece you have to sell.”

“Would you mind coming upstairs?” asked Barbara.

“No, indeed.”

The two went up, Barbara slowly leading the way.  Miriam remained downstairs to make sure that the blind man did not come in unexpectedly and overhear things which he would be much happier not to know.

“What a lot of it,” Eloise was saying.  “And what a wonderful old chest.”

[Sidenote:  Dainty Wares]

Trembling with excitement, Barbara spread forth her dainty wares.  Eloise was watching her narrowly, and, with womanly intuition, saw the dire need and the courageous spirit struggling against it.

“Just a minute, please,” said Barbara; “I’d better tell you now.  My father is blind and he does not know we are poor, nor that I make these things to sell.  He thinks that they are for myself and that I am very vain.  So, if he should come home while you are here, please do not spoil our little deceit.”

Barbara lifted her luminous blue eyes to Eloise and smiled.  It was a brave little smile without a hint of self-pity, and it went straight to the older woman’s heart.

“I’ll be careful,” said Eloise.  “I think it’s dear of you.”