CHAPTER XXVII

asifshesuddenlysawhercousinthroughneweyes—“withouttheslightesttouchofdistinction.” SoValancyhadcomehome,thankgoodness,thoughtOlive.ButValancywasnotlookinglikearepentant,returnedprodigal.ThiswasthecauseofOlive’sfrown.Shewaslookingtriumphant—graceless!Thatoutlandishdress—thatqueerhat—thosehandsfullofblood-redroses.Yettherewassomethingaboutbothdressandhat,asOliveinstantlyfelt,thatwasentirelylackinginherownattire.Thisdeepenedthefrown.Sheputoutacondescendinghand. “Soyou’reback,Doss?Verywarmday,isn’tit?Didyouwalkin?” “Yes.Comingin?” “Oh,no.I’vejustbeenin.I’vecomeoftentocomfortpoorAunty.She’sbeensolonesome.I’mgoingtoMrs.Bartlett’stea.Ihavetohelppour.She’sgivingitforhercousinfromToronto.Suchacharminggirl.You’dhavelovedmeetingher,Doss.IthinkMrs.Bartlettdidsendyouacard.Perhapsyou’lldropinlateron.” “No,Idon’tthinkso,”saidValancyindifferently.“I’llhavetobehometogetBarney’ssupper.We’regoingforamoonlitcanoeridearoundMistawistonight.” “Barney?Supper?”gaspedOlive.“Whatdoyoumean,ValancyStirling?” “ValancySnaith,bythegraceofGod.” Valancyflauntedherwedding-ringinOlive’sstrickenface.Thenshenimblysteppedpastherandintothehouse.CousinGeorgianafollowed.Shewouldnotmissamomentofthegreatscene,eventhoughOlivedidlookasifsheweregoingtofaint. Olivedidnotfaint.ShewentstupidlydownthestreettoMrs.Bartlett’s.WhatdidDossmean?Shecouldn’thave—thatring—oh,whatfreshscandalwasthatwretchedgirlbringingonherdefencelessfamilynow?Sheshouldhavebeen—shutup—longago. Valancyopenedthesitting-roomdoorandsteppedunexpectedlyrightintoagrimassemblageofStirlings.Theyhadnotcometogetherofmaliceprepense.AuntWellingtonandCousinGladysandAuntMildredandCousinSarahhadjustcalledinontheirwayhomefromameetingofthemissionarysociety.UncleJameshaddroppedintogiveAmeliasomeinformationregardingadoubtfulinvestment.UncleBenjaminhadcalled,apparently,totellthemitwasahotdayandaskthemwhatwasthedifferencebetweenabeeandadonkey.CousinStickleshadbeentactlessenoughtoknowtheanswer—“onegetsallthehoney,theotherallthewhacks”—andUncleBenjaminwasinabadhumour.Inalloftheirminds,unexpressed,wastheideaoffindingoutifValancyhadyetcomehome,and,ifnot,whatstepsmustbetakeninthematter. Well,herewasValancyatlast,apoised,confidentthing,nothumbleanddeprecatingassheshouldhavebeen.Andsooddly,improperlyyoung-looking.Shestoodinthedoorwayandlookedatthem,CousinGeorgianatimorous,expectant,behindher.Valancywassohappyshedidn’thateherpeopleanymore.Shecouldevenseeanumberofgoodqualitiesinthemthatshehadneverseenbefore.Andshewassorryforthem.Herpitymadeherquitegentle. “Well,Mother,”shesaidpleasantly. “Soyou’vecomehomeatlast!”saidMrs.Frederick,gettingoutahandkerchief.Shedarednotbeoutraged,butshedidnotmeantobecheatedofhertears. “Well,notexactly,”saidValancy.Shethrewherbomb.“IthoughtIoughttodropinandtellyouIwasmarried.LastTuesdaynight.ToBarneySnaith.” UncleBenjaminbouncedupandsatdownagain. “Godblessmysoul!”hesaiddully.Therestseemedturnedtostone.ExceptCousinGladys,whoturnedfaint.AuntMildredandUncleWellingtonhadtohelpherouttothekitchen. “ShewouldhavetokeepuptheVictoriantraditions,”saidValancy,withagrin.Shesatdown,uninvited,onachair.CousinStickleshadbeguntosob. “Isthereonedayinyourlifethatyouhaven’tcried?”askedValancycuriously. “Valancy,”saidUncleJames,beingthefirsttorecoverthepowerofutterance,“didyoumeanwhatyousaidjustnow?” “Idid.” “Doyoumeanto