________________________________________________
_ William's period of peculiar sensitiveness
dated from that evening, and Jane, in
particular, caused him a great deal of anxiety.
In fact, he began to feel that Jane was a
mortification which his parents might have spared him,
with no loss to themselves or to the world. Not
having shown that consideration for anybody,
they might at least have been less spinelessly
indulgent of her. William's bitter conviction
was that he had never seen a child so starved of
discipline or so lost to etiquette as Jane.
For one thing, her passion for bread-and-butter,
covered with apple sauce and powdered sugar,
was getting to be a serious matter. Secretly,
William was not yet so changed by love as to be
wholly indifferent to this refection himself, but
his consumption of it was private, whereas Jane
had formed the habit of eating it in exposed places
--such as the front yard or the sidewalk. At
no hour of the day was it advisable for a relative
to approach the neighborhood in fastidious
company, unless prepared to acknowledge kinship
with a spindly young person either eating
bread-and-butter and apple sauce and powdered
sugar, or all too visibly just having eaten bread-
and-butter and apple sauce and powdered sugar.
Moreover, there were times when Jane had
worse things than apple sauce to answer for, as
William made clear to his mother in an oration
as hot as the July noon sun which looked down
upon it.
Mrs. Baxter was pleasantly engaged with a
sprinkling-can and some small flower-beds in the
shady back yard, and Jane, having returned from
various sidewalk excursions, stood close by as a
spectator, her hands replenished with the favorite
food and her chin rising and falling in gentle
motions, little prophecies of the slight distensions
which passed down her slender throat with slow,
rhythmic regularity. Upon this calm scene came
William, plunging round a corner of the house,
furious yet plaintive.
``You've got to do something about that
child!'' he began. ``I CAN not stand it!''
Jane looked at him dumbly, not ceasing, how
ever, to eat; while Mrs. Baxter thoughtfully
continued her sprinkling.
``You've been gone all morning, Willie,'' she
said. ``I thought your father mentioned at
breakfast that he expected you to put in at
least four hours a day on your mathematics
and--''
``That's neither here nor there,'' William
returned, vehemently. ``I just want to say this:
if you don't do something about Jane, I will!
Just look at her! LOOK at her, I ask you! That's
just the way she looked half an hour ago, out on
the public sidewalk in front of the house, when I
came by here with Miss PRATT! That was pleasant,
wasn't it? To be walking with a lady on the
public street and meet a member of my family
looking like that! Oh, LOVELY!''
In the anguish of this recollection his voice
cracked, and though his eyes were dry his gestures
wept for him. Plainly, he was about to reach the
most lamentable portion of his narrative. ``And
then she HOLLERED at me! She hollered, `Oh,
WILL--EE!' Here he gave an imitation of Jane's
voice, so damnatory that Jane ceased to eat for
several moments and drew herself up with a kind
of dignity. ``She hollered, `Oh, WILL--EE' at me!''
he stormed. ``Anybody would think I was about
six years old! She hollered, `Oh, Will--ee,' and
she rubbed her stomach and slushed apple sauce
all over her face, and she kept hollering,
`Will--ee!' with her mouth full. `Will--ee,
look! Good! Bread-and-butter and apple
sauce and sugar! I bet you wish YOU had
some, Will--ee!' ''
``You did eat some, the other day,'' said Jane.
``You ate a whole lot. You eat it every chance
you get!''
``You hush up!'' he shouted, and returned to
his description of the outrage. ``She kept FOLLOWING
us! She followed us, hollering, `WILL--EE!'
till it's a wonder we didn't go deaf! And just
look at her! I don't see how you can stand it
to have her going around like that and people
knowing it's your child! Why, she hasn't got
enough ON!''
Mrs. Baxter laughed. ``Oh, for this very hot
weather, I really don't think people notice or
care much about--''
`` `Notice'!'' he wailed. ``I guess Miss PRATT
noticed! Hot weather's no excuse for--for outright
obesity!'' (As Jane was thin, it is probable
that William had mistaken the meaning of this
word.) ``Why, half o' what she HAS got on has
come unfastened--especially that frightful thing
hanging around her leg--and look at her back,
I just beg you! I ask you to look at her back.
You can see her spinal cord!''
``Column,'' Mrs. Baxter corrected. ``Spinal
column, Willie.''
``What do _I_ care which it is?'' he fumed.
``People aren't supposed to go around with it
EXPOSED, whichever it is! And with apple sauce
on their ears!''
``There is not!'' Jane protested, and at the
moment when she spoke she was right. Naturally,
however, she lifted her hands to the accused ears,
and the unfortunate result was to justify William's
statement.
``LOOK!'' he cried. ``I just ask you to look!
Think of it: that's the sight I have to meet when
I'm out walking with Miss PRATT! She asked me
who it was, and I wish you'd seen her face. She
wanted to know who `that curious child' was,
and I'm glad you didn't hear the way she said it.
`Who IS that curious child?' she said, and I had
to tell her it was my sister. I had to tell Miss
PRATT it was my only SISTER!''
``Willie, who is Miss Pratt?'' asked Mrs.
Baxter, mildly. ``I don't think I've ever heard
of--''
Jane had returned to an admirable imperturbability,
but she chose this moment to interrupt
her mother, and her own eating, with remarks
delivered in a tone void of emphasis or expression.
``Willie's mashed on her,'' she said, casually.
``And she wears false side-curls. One almost
came off.''
At this unspeakable desecration William's face
was that of a high priest stricken at the altar.
``She's visitin' Miss May Parcher,'' added the
deadly Jane. ``But the Parchers are awful tired
of her. They wish she'd go home, but they don't
like to tell her so.''
One after another these insults from the canaille
fell upon the ears of William. That slanders so
atrocious could soil the universal air seemed
unthinkable.
He became icily calm.
``NOW if you don't punish her,'' he said,
deliberately, ``it's because you have lost your sense
of duty!''
Having uttered these terrible words, he turned
upon his heel and marched toward the house.
His mother called after him:
``Wait, Willie. Jane doesn't mean to hurt
your feelings--''
``My feelings!'' he cried, the iciness of his
demeanor giving way under the strain of emotion.
``You stand there and allow her to speak
as she did of one of the--one of the--'' For
a moment William appeared to be at a loss,
and the fact is that it always has been a difficult
matter to describe THE bright, ineffable divinity
of the world to one's mother, especially in the
presence of an inimical third party of tender
years. ``One of the--'' he said; ``one of the--
the noblest--one of the noblest--''
Again he paused.
``Oh, Jane didn't mean anything,'' said Mrs.
Baxter. ``And if you think Miss Pratt is so nice,
I'll ask May Parcher to bring her to tea with us
some day. If it's too hot, we'll have iced tea,
and you can ask Johnnie Watson, if you like.
Don't get so upset about things, Willie!''
`` `Upset'!'' he echoed, appealing to heaven
against this word. `` `Upset'!'' And he entered
the house in a manner most dramatic.
``What made you say that?'' Mrs. Baxter
asked, turning curiously to Jane when William
had disappeared. ``Where did you hear any
such things?''
``I was there,'' Jane replied, gently eating on
and on. William could come and William could
go, but Jane's alimentary canal went on forever.
``You were where, Jane?''
``At the Parchers'.''
``Oh, I see.''
``Yesterday afternoon,'' said Jane, ``when
Miss Parcher had the Sunday-school class for
lemonade and cookies.''
``Did you hear Miss Parcher say--''
``No'm,'' said Jane. ``I ate too many cookies,
I guess, maybe. Anyways, Miss Parcher said
I better lay down--''
``LIE down, Jane.''
``Yes'm. On the sofa in the liberry, an' Mrs.
Parcher an' Mr. Parcher came in there an' sat
down, after while, an' it was kind of dark, an'
they didn't hardly notice me, or I guess they
thought I was asleep, maybe. Anyways, they
didn't talk loud, but Mr. Parcher would sort of
grunt an' ack cross. He said he just wished he
knew when he was goin' to have a home again.
Then Mrs. Parcher said May HAD to ask her
Sunday-school class, but he said he never meant
the Sunday-school class. He said since Miss
Pratt came to visit, there wasn't anywhere
he could go, because Willie Baxter an' Johnnie
Watson an' Joe Bullitt an' all the other ones
like that were there all the time, an' it made him
just sick at the stummick, an' he did wish there
was some way to find out when she was goin'
home, because he couldn't stand much more talk
about love. He said Willie an' Johnnie Watson
an' Joe Bullitt an' Miss Pratt were always arguin'
somep'm about love, an' he said Willie was
the worst. Mamma, he said he didn't like the
rest of it, but he said he guessed he could stand
it if it wasn't for Willie. An' he said the reason
they were all so in love of Miss Pratt was because
she talks baby-talk, an' he said he couldn't stand
much more baby-talk. Mamma, she has the
loveliest little white dog, an' Mr. Parcher doesn't
like it. He said he couldn't go anywhere around
the place without steppin' on the dog or Willie
Baxter. An' he said he couldn't sit on his own
porch any more; he said he couldn't sit even in
the liberry but he had to hear baby-talk goin'
on SOMEwheres an' then either Willie Baxter or
Joe Bullitt or somebody or another arguin' about
love. Mamma, he said''--Jane became
impressive--``he said, mamma, he said he didn't
mind the Sunday-school class, but he couldn't
stand those dam boys!''
``Jane!'' Mrs. Baxter cried, ``you MUSTN'T
say such things!''
``I didn't, mamma. Mr. Parcher said it. He
said he couldn't stand those da--''
``JANE! No matter what he said, you mustn't
repeat--''
``But I'm not. I only said Mr. PARCHER said he
couldn't stand those d--''
Mrs. Baxter cut the argument short by
imprisoning Jane's mouth with a firm hand. Jane
continued to swallow quietly until released.
Then she said:
``But, mamma, how can I tell you what he
said unless I say--''
``Hush!'' Mrs. Baxter commanded. ``You
must never, never again use such a terrible and
wicked word.''
``I won't, mamma,'' Jane said, meekly. Then
she brightened. ``Oh, _I_ know! I'll say `word'
instead. Won't that be all right?''
``I--I suppose so.''
``Well, Mr. Parcher said he couldn't stand
those word boys. That sounds all right, doesn't
it, mamma?''
Mrs. Baxter hesitated, but she was inclined to
hear as complete as possible a report of Mr. and
Mrs. Parcher's conversation, since it seemed to
concern William so nearly; and she well knew
that Jane had her own way of telling things--or
else they remained untold.
``I--I suppose so,'' Mrs. Baxter said,
again.
``Well, they kind of talked along,'' Jane
continued, much pleased;--``an' Mr. Parcher said
when he was young he wasn't any such a--such a
word fool as these young word fools were. He
said in all his born days Willie Baxter was the
wordest fool he ever saw!''
Willie Baxter's mother flushed a little. ``That
was very unjust and very wrong of Mr. Parcher,''
she said, primly.
``Oh no, mamma!'' Jane protested. ``Mrs.
Parcher thought so, too.''
``Did she, indeed!''
``Only she didn't say word or wordest or anything
like that,'' Jane explained. ``She said it
was because Miss Pratt had coaxed him to be so
in love of her, an' Mr. Parcher said he didn't care
whose fault it was, Willie was a--a word calf an'
so were all the rest of 'em, Mr. Parcher said.
An' he said he couldn't stand it any more. Mr.
Parcher said that a whole lot of times, mamma.
He said he guess' pretty soon he'd haf to be in the
lunatic asylum if Miss Pratt stayed a few more
days with her word little dog an' her word
Willie Baxter an' all the other word calfs.
Mrs. Parcher said he oughtn't to say `word,'
mamma. She said, `Hush, hush!' to him, mamma.
He talked like this, mamma: he said, `I'll
be word if I stand it!' An' he kept gettin'
crosser, an' he said, `Word! Word! WORD!
WOR--' ''
``There!'' Mrs. Baxter interrupted, sharply.
``That will do, Jane! We'll talk about something
else now, I think.''
Jane looked hurt; she was taking great
pleasure in this confidential interview, and gladly
would have continued to quote the harried Mr.
Parcher at great length. Still, she was not
entirely uncontent: she must have had some
perception that her performance merely as a
notable bit of reportorial art--did not wholly lack
style, even if her attire did. Yet, brilliant as
Jane's work was, Mrs. Baxter felt no astonishment;
several times ere this Jane had demonstrated
a remarkable faculty for the retention
of details concerning William. And running
hand in hand with a really superb curiosity, this
powerful memory was making Jane an even
greater factor in William's life than he suspected.
During the glamors of early love, if there be
a creature more deadly than the little brother of
a budding woman, that creature is the little sister
of a budding man. The little brother at least
tells in the open all he knows, often at full
power of his lungs, and even that may be avoided,
since he is wax in the hands of bribery; but the
little sister is more apt to save her knowledge for
use upon a terrible occasion; and, no matter
what bribes she may accept, she is certain to tell
her mother everything. All in all, a young
lover should arrange, if possible, to be the
only child of elderly parents; otherwise his
mother and sister are sure to know a great
deal more about him than he knows that they
know.
This was what made Jane's eyes so disturbing
to William during lunch that day. She ate
quietly and competently, but all the while he was
conscious of her solemn and inscrutable gaze
fixed upon him; and she spoke not once. She
could not have rendered herself more annoying,
especially as William was trying to treat her
with silent scorn, for nothing is more irksome to
the muscles of the face than silent scorn, when
there is no means of showing it except by the
expression. On the other hand, Jane's
inscrutability gave her no discomfort whatever.
In fact, inscrutability is about the most
comfortable expression that a person can wear,
though the truth is that just now Jane was not
really inscrutable at all.
She was merely looking at William and thinking
of Mr. Parcher. _
Read next: CHAPTER IX. LITTLE SISTERS HAVE BIG EARS
Read previous: CHAPTER VII. MR. BAXTER'S EVENING CLOTHES
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