CHAPTER XVI. GOOD NEWS
Sunday morning dawned gloriously, and although the sun rose at an earlyhour, Jenny was out on the Rocky Point to watch the crimson and goldshafts of light flaming up back of the mountain peaks; then she lookedout at the sea with its opalescent colors. Turning, she saw someonewalking along the beach from the house beyond the high hedge.
It was not hard to recognize the military bearing of the youth. As thegirl had not known of the party given on the previous evening at ThePalms, she had no knowledge of the near presence of the lad whom she hadso longed to see, that she might ask about the farm. Harold had saidnothing to his sister Gwynette of his determination to remain over night,but when his comrades had departed for the big city far to the north, hehad climbed into his little gray speeder and had gone to the desertedmansion-like home belonging to his mother.
Being without a thought of fear, the lad had not in the least minded theghastliness of the spacious rooms where the furniture wore coverings ofwhite and where his footsteps awakened echoes long silent. He had sleptin his own bed, but had aroused early, meaning to breakfast with his oldnurse and her family.
When he saw the girl standing on the highest rock of the points with theshining morning sky back of her, he snatched off his cap and waved it,then broke into a run, which soon took him scrambling up the rocks to herside.
Holding out a strong brown hand, he exclaimed, real pleasure glowing inhis eyes: "Why, little Jenny Warner, how tall you are, and graceful, likea flower on a slender stem."
The girl laughed merrily. "Do boys always feel that they must say prettythings to their girl acquaintances?" she asked.
As he gazed into her liquid brown eyes with their tender depths, the ladsuddenly found himself wishing that he were a poet, that he might saysomething truly fitting, but as words failed him, he confessed that mostgirls seemed to like to receive compliments. How innocent was theexpression of the sweet face that was lifted toward his.
"Really, do they?" Then she confessed: "I don't know many girls, onlyone--a farmer's daughter who is over at Granger Place Seminary."
The lad raised his eyebrows questioningly. Then he began to laugh.
"A farmer's daughter, is she? Well, I'm glad there is _one_ pupil at thatschool who is honest about her family."
Then noting that his companion was looking at him as though wonderingwhat he meant, he explained in an offhand way, not wishing to break hispromise to his sister: "Oh, I just heard that some one of the girls inthat school is supposed to be the daughter of a younger son of theEnglish nobility." Adding quickly: "You say that you are acquainted withonly one girl. Hasn't my sister Gwyn been over to call on the Warnersyet, and haven't you met her?"
A color that rivaled the rose in the sky flamed into Jenny's face. Haroldsaw it and correctly concluded that the girls _had_ met, and that Jennyhad been rudely treated.
"Gwyn is a snob," was his mental comment. Aloud he said: "Do you supposethat your grandmother will invite me to stay to breakfast? I'll have tostart for the big town by ten, at the latest, and so I cannot be here fordinner."
"Of course she will." Jenny glanced back at the farmhouse as she spokeand saw that the smoke was beginning to wreath out of the chimney abovethe kitchen stove. "They're up now, and so I'll go in and set the table."
But still she did not move, and the lad watching her expressive faceintently, exclaimed impulsively: "Jenny, is something troubling you?Can't I help if there is?"
That Harold's surmise had been correct the lad knew before the girlspoke, for her sweet brown eyes brimmed with tears, and she said in alow, eager voice:
"Oh, how I have wanted to see you to ask about the farm. I heard, Ioverheard your sister telling her two friends from San Francisco thatwhen your mother comes from France the farm is to be sold, and if it is,dear old Grandpa and Grandma will have no place to go."
An angry color had slowly mounted the tanned face of the boy, and he saidcoldly: "My sister presumes to have more knowledge of our mother'saffairs than she has. The farm is _not_ to be sold without my consent.Mother has agreed to that. I have asked for Rocky Point and the MaidenHair Falls Canyon for my share of the estate."
He looked out over the water thoughtfully before he continued: "Mother, Iwill confess, thinks my request a strange one, since the home and thefifteen acres about it are far more valuable, and she will not consent tothe making of so unequal a division of her property, but she did promisethat she would not sell the farm until I wished it sold. I believe shesuspects that when I finish my schooling I may plan to become a gentlemanfarmer myself."
The lad laughed as though amused, but as he looked intently at the lovelygirl before him, he became serious and exclaimed as though for the firsttime he had thought of considering it:
"Perhaps, after all, I might do worse. I simply will not go into thearmy. I should hate that life."
Then, catching the girl's hand, he led her down the rocks as he calledgayly: "Come on, little Jenny Warner, let's ask your grandfather if hewill begin this very summer to teach me how to be a farmer."
And so it was a few moments later, when Grandpa Si came from the barnwith a pail brimming with foamy milk, that he was almost bumped into by agirl and boy who, hand in hand, were running joyfully from the otherdirection.
"Wall, I'll be dod-blasted!" the old man exclaimed, "if it ain't littleHarry!"
Then he called: "Grandma Sue, come an' see who's here!"
The bright-eyed old woman appeared in the open door, fork in hand. Thelad leaped up the porch steps and kissed her on a flushed, wrinkledcheek.
"Grandma Sue," he asked merrily, "have you room for a starved beggar boyat your breakfast table?"
"Room, is it?" was the pleased response. "Thar'll allays be that, sonny,whenever you're wantin' a bite to eat."
Such a merry meal followed. No one could make pancakes better than SusanWarner, and when the first edge was taken from his appetite, Haroldinsisted on helping Jenny turn the cakes for the other two. He wonderedwhat Gwynette would think and say, if she could see him, but for that hecared not at all. Then, when they were seated, the boy astonished thefarmer by asking if he were willing to take him on that coming summer asa helper.
"Tush! Nonsense it is yo're talkin' now, Harry boy. Yo' wouldn't want tobe puttin' on overalls, would ye, an' be milkin' ol' Brindle?"
But Harold was in dead earnest, they were finally convinced, and when atlast he started away along the beach it was with the understanding thathe was to return the first of June to be Farmer Warner's "helper."