Dawn by Eleanor Porter (best finance books of all time TXT) 📕

dish for every meal. As Christmas drew near, and DanielBurton's hours grew longer, Susan still made no audible comment; butshe redoubled her efforts to make him comfortable the few hours leftto him at home.

CHAPTER XVIII

"MISS STEWART"

It was just after Christmas that another letter came from Keith. Itwas addressed as usual to Susan. Keith had explained in his secondletter that he was always going to write to Susan, so that she mightread it to his father, thus saving him the disagreeableness of seeinghow crooked and uneven some of his lines were. His father hadremonstrated—feebly; but Keith still wrote to Susan.

Keith had been improving in his writing very rapidly, however, sincethose earliest letters, and most of his letters now were models ofeven lines and carefully formed characters. But this letter Susan sawat once was very different. It bore unmistakable marks of haste,agitation, and lack of care. It began abruptly, after the briefest ofsalutations:

Why didn't you tell me you knew Miss Stewart? She says she knows youreal well, and father, too, and that she's been to the house lots oftimes, and that she's going back to Hinsdale next week, and that sheis going to school there this year, and will graduate in June.

Oh, she didn't tell me all this at once, you bet your sweet life. Ihad to worm it out of her little by little. But what I want to knowis, why you folks didn't tell me anything about it—that you knew her,and all that? But you never said a word—not a word. Neither you nordad. But she says she knows dad real well. Funny dad never mentionedit!

Miss Stewart sure is a peach of a girl all right and the best ever tome. She's always hunting up new games for me to play. She's taught metwo this time, and she's read two books to me. There's a new fellowhere named Henty, and we play a lot together. I am well, and gettingalong all right. Guess that's all for this time. Love to all.KEITHP.S. Now don't forget to tell me why you never said a thing that youknew Miss Stewart. K.

"Well, now I guess the kettle is in the fire, all right!" ejaculated

Susan, folding the letter with hands that shook a little.

"What do you mean?" asked Daniel Burton.

"Why, about that girl, of course. He'll find out now she's DorothyParkman. He can't help findin' it out!" "Well, what if he does?"demanded the man, a bit impatiently.

"'What if he does?'" repeated Susan, with lofty scorn. "I guess you'llfind what 'tis when that boy does find out she's Dorothy Parkman, an'then won't have nothin' more to do with her, nor her father, nor herfather's new doctor, nor anything that is hers."

"Nonsense, Susan, don't be silly," snapped the man, still moreirritably. "'Nor her father, nor her father's new doctor, nor anythingthat is hers,' indeed! You sound for all the world as if you werechanting a catechism! What's the matter? Doesn't the boy like MissDorothy?"

"Why, Daniel Burton, you know he don't! I told you long ago all aboutit, when I explained how we'd got to give her father a resumed name,so Keith wouldn't know, an'—"

"Oh, THAT! What she said about not wanting to see blind people?

Nonsense, Susan, that was years ago, when they were children! Why,

Keith's a man, nearly. You're forgetting—he'll be eighteen next June,

Susan."

"That's all right, Mr. Burton." Susan's lips snapped together grimlyand her chin assumed its most defiant tilt. "I ain't sayin' he ain't.But there's some cases where age don't make a mite of difference, an'you'll find this is one of 'em. You mark my words, Daniel Burton. Ihave seen jest as big fools at eighteen, an' eighty, for that matter,as I have at eight. 'T ain't a matter of decree at all. Keith Burtongot it into his head when he was first goin' blind that DorothyParkman would hate to look at him if ever he did get blind; an' hejust vowed an' determined that if ever he did get that way, sheshouldn't see him. Well, now he's blind. An' if you think he's forgotwhat Dorothy Parkman said, you'd oughter been with me when she came tosee him with Mazie Sanborn one day, or even when they just called upto him on the piazza one mornin'."

"Well, well, very likely," conceded the man irritably; "but I stillmust remind you, Susan, that all this was some time ago. Keith's gotmore sense now." "Maybe—an' then again maybe not. However, we'll see—what we will see," she mumbled, as she left the room with a littledefiant toss of her head.

Susan did not answer Keith's letter at once. Just how she was going to

answer that particular question concerning their acquaintance with

"Miss Stewart" she did not know, nor could she get any assistance from

Daniel Burton on the subject.

"Why, tell him the truth, of course," was all that Daniel Burton wouldanswer, with a shrug, in reply to her urgent appeals for aid in thematter. This, Susan, in utter horror, refused to do.

"But surely you don't expect to keep it secret forever who she is, doyou?" demanded Daniel Burton scornfully one day.

"Of course I don't. But I'm going to keep it jest as long as I can,"avowed Susan doggedly. "An' maybe I can keep it—till he gets hisblessed eyes back. I shan't care if he does find out then."

"I don't think—we'll any of us—mind anything then, Susan," said theman softly, a little brokenly. And Susan, looking into his face,turned away suddenly, to hide her own.

That evening Susan heard that Dorothy Parkman was expected to arrivein Hinsdale in two days.

"I'll jest wait, then, an' intervene the young lady my own self," shemused, as she walked home from the post-office. "This tryin' to settleDorothy Parkman's affairs without Dorothy Parkman is like havin'omelet with omelet left out," she finished, nodding to herself all inthe dark, as she turned in at the Burton gateway.

Dorothy Parkman came two days later. As was usual now she came at onceto the house. Susan on the watch, met