Keineth

CHAPTER XVI

AUNT JOSEPHINE

"It's Aunt Josephine!" cried Keineth.

"Oh, dear, she'll spoil the fun!"

Keineth wished the ground would open wide and swallow her up, so deep was her dismay. Never in her life had she so hated that yellow monster and Kingston's rigid back! And yes, the black-robed figure in the back _was_ Celeste!

"Oh, dear," echoed Alice.

"Maybe she has some word from father." The thought lent wings to Keineth's feet--she flew over the ground, Peggy following closely, a most curious sight for Aunt Josephine's eyes, with her wet bathing-suit and her blue and white bathrobe flying out behind!

No, Aunt Josephine had no news of Keineth's father! She was on a motor trip and had stopped at Fairview. She was quite the same Aunt Josephine, beautifully gowned in a linen dress whose trimmings matched the stylish little hat she wore on her head. She rose from the wicker chair on the veranda, where she sat with Mrs. Lee, to greet the children. Keineth felt her critical glance wander from her to the others even while she was answering her aunt's questions.

Mrs. Lee read the consternation behind the children's polite greetings, for in her sweet voice she broke in:

"I have been asking Mrs. Winthrop to join us to-night in our beach frolic--you girlies must urge her!"

"Oh, please do!" they cried together.

Aunt Josephine did not seem to hear them. She was looking very hard at Keineth. "She does look well," she admitted; "I suppose the quiet life here has been good for her." She spoke directly to Keineth and the child felt in her tone the mild disapproval she knew so well. "I am on my way through to the Yellowstone, child. I thought, perhaps, I might pick you up and take you along, but you are so freckled that you are a sight!" Then, as though she recalled the beach supper and the children's invitation, she added, apologetically, "It is very kind, but I am a little out of the habit of such things!"

"Hateful thing--how can she be Ken's aunt!" Peggy was thinking resentfully, for she had seen a hurt look creep into Keineth's eyes.

Mrs. Lee's face wore its most cordial smile. She laid her hand upon Aunt Josephine's arm.

"That's just why I like to go to picnics and things--it _is_ easy to get out of the habit of fun! Do send your man away and join us! It will be a great treat to know our Keineth's aunt a little better."

Now what neither Keineth nor Peggy, nor even Mrs. Lee could guess was that beneath the folds of expensive linen and lace and dainty pleatings of rose silk was a heart that was just hungry because--years and years before--it had forgotten "how to have fun!" The happy faces of the children, freckled though they were, the simplicity of the pretty home, the flowers blooming so riotously and gaily all about, the light that lay deep in Mrs. Lee's eyes roused a longing very strange to Aunt Josephine! Perhaps if she had had youngsters of her own she might never have been the kind of an Aunt Josephine she was--tyrannized over by a Fido and a Celeste and a Kingston!

"I will come," Aunt Josephine decided so suddenly that they were startled. "Keineth, dear, please tell Celeste to come to me."

Celeste was instructed to unpack a warm coat and to bring a robe. Then she and Kingston were told that they might drive back to town, to return later for Mrs. Winthrop.

Mrs. Lee carried Aunt Josephine off to the tiny guest room while the children flew toward the pantry to make ready the picnic baskets.

Vaguely Keineth felt worried, as though, in some way or other, she was to blame for this unwelcome addition to the party. But Peggy, joining them in middy blouse and bloomers, reassured her in an excited whisper.

"It'll be such fun just to see how she'll act! Oh, I do wish that funny maid and that awful leather-man were going, too! Do you suppose she can _ever_ eat a bacon sandwich without a fork?"

But Aunt Josephine _did_ eat one without a fork and then ate another. She sat on a rock, her pretty linen all crumpled and mussed, a great deal of sand in her shoes, and balanced a paper plate on her lap and laughed, a rippling jolly laugh that Keineth had never heard before. She made Keineth and Peggy sit one on each side of her and tell her of all they had done during the summer.

When the last marshmallow had been toasted and the pans scoured and put away in the baskets, the picnickers gathered about the dying bonfires for a "sing-song." This always included all the songs they loved best, the songs Mr. and Mrs. Lee had known in their youth and the songs of the present day. And Aunt Josephine's rich contralto rang above the others.

"Why, I haven't sung like this since I can remember," she laughed. The children were just finishing, "There's a long, long trail a-winding, into the land o' my dreams!"

In the dim light Keineth was studying her aunt's face. Perhaps she had often been unkind in her thoughts; she might have known that Aunt Josephine must be very, very nice or she couldn't have been her father's sister! She slipped her hand into her aunt's and felt a warm pressure return her clasp.

When Mrs. Lee began "This is the End of a Perfect Day" the children knew that the fun was over. They were glad to go home, for it had been a strenuous and exciting week.

When the good-nights were said Aunt Josephine drew Keineth toward her.

"May I keep her up a little longer--I would like to have a little talk."

A dread seized Keineth's heart, for she recalled her aunt's words concerning the Yellowstone. She might have to go with Aunt Josephine and Celeste and Kingston, after all.

Aunt Josephine sat down by the lamp, very straight, the way she always sat when she had something important on her mind. Mrs. Lee sank back among the pillows on the divan and Mr. Lee pulled his chair closer to the window and lighted his pipe.

"I cannot tell you," Aunt Josephine began, "how glad I am to have become acquainted with you all. I feel better about Keineth."

A silence followed this. Very troubled, Keineth glanced at Mrs. Lee, to find her smiling.

"You know I did not approve of the way my brother just turned her over to almost strangers. It seemed as if she ought to be with me. I would have sent her to a camp in Maine--a very fine camp for girls--and then, perhaps had her with me at the seashore."

Aunt Josephine paused as though waiting for Mrs. Lee to say something. And Mrs. Lee said quietly:

"I think she has been happy here."

"I came this way intending to steal her for this Yellowstone trip, though perhaps she'd better not go." Keineth put her hand to her face involuntarily as though to cover the shameless freckles. "But I feel that I ought to talk over with you--well, the plans for her school in the fall." Keineth swept a frightened glance toward Mrs. Lee. Aunt Josephine went on in the voice she always used when doing her duty: "Miss Edgecombe has a very select school for girls a few blocks from me in New York. I know Miss Edgecombe well and she is holding a place open for Keineth. I feel she is a very suitable person to train a child. You know," with a tone of apology, "my brother had no sense at all in bringing up the girl! He left everything to that queer old governess." Mrs. Lee suddenly sat up very straight on the divan,

"When Keineth came to us she had to learn to be like other children. Yes, she had been shut up too much with that very good governess; her little brain had grown faster than her body. It's her body's turn now, the brain can wait. Mr. Randolph said that he wished her to remain with us until he returned. Keineth and I have a plan of our own for the fall, to play and work on our music." She smiled at Keineth.

Aunt Josephine hesitated as though she could not find the right words to express what she felt. "I thought it was my duty to speak to Miss Edgecombe," she said stiffly; "she is my brother's child and will probably, some day, inherit what I have. I should like to have her with me, but," there was a wistful ring in her voice, "I suppose she is better off with you."

"The things Miss Edgecombe can teach her can wait, perhaps," Aunt Nellie answered, smiling down at Keineth. "Keineth is happy in our simple life--"

"Simple life--that's just it!" Aunt Josephine spoke rapidly, as though Mrs. Lee had suddenly helped her to find the words she wanted. "You're so simple that you're wonderful! You've learned to live real lives without all the shams that make slaves of the rest of us. Why, my life seems as empty as a bubble and the things I do worth just about as much as a bubble by the side of this." She swept her hand out toward the lamp-lighted room. "And I must have lived like this once--but I've forgotten! I've always thought my brother queer and that governess he had insufferable--but I guess you and he know what's best. I'm glad the child is with you. Yes," the wistful note crept back into her voice, "I would have enjoyed having her, but, she's better off, all freckled and in those absurd clothes."

As Mrs. Winthrop drove away through the starlit night, a costly robe protecting her from the chill of the evening, Celeste at hand for instant service, Kingston guiding the monster car, she looked back over her shoulder at the little house outlined against the sky and sighed--a lonely little sigh.

In a tumult of joy Keineth had thrown her arms about Mrs. Lee's neck. "Oh, I was so frightened!" she cried. "Thank you for not letting me go. I'd have just _hated_ Miss Edgecombe's--after this! And I do want to stay with Peggy!" she finished with a tight hug. Then, as they climbed the stairs together, she said softly--without knowing why in the least she said it:

"Poor Aunt Josephine! It must be awful to be rich."