CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE RUDE LITTLE SYLVIA
Dixie stood in the open door, watching the three children as theyclimbed the trail, and when they reached the top, before they turnedinto the canyon road, they waved back to her, and the little mother ofthem all smiled and nodded. Then she went into the kitchen with a sighthat she tried to change into a song. She noticed that the big chair hadbeen turned, and that Sylvia was no longer curled up in it, but sat,leaning back, her thin legs hanging listlessly, for they were not quitelong enough to reach the floor.
Sylvia looked so wan and miserable that Dixie silently asked herself thequestion that she and Carol had planned for the game: "What would I sayand do if I really liked Sylvia?"
For a few moments she said nothing as she went about her morning tasks.Her thoughts were busy searching for an answer to her query, but it washard to decide what would be best to do, since her former advance hadbeen so rudely met.
Dixie went into the small lean-to room to make Ken's bed and Jimmy-Boy'scrib. When she returned she found the blue eyes of the little guestwatching her.
"I'm hungry," Sylvia said, in a tone of voice which implied that she wasbeing much abused. "I want cake and cocoa."
"I am sorry, but we children always have porridge for breakfast, and wedrink cold milk," Dixie said. Then, fearing that she had not been asgracious as a hostess, even an unwilling hostess, should be, she added:"You can have all the sugar you want on the porridge, and the cream isso good."
"Well, you may bring me some, but I won't promise to eat it," said thesmall girl condescendingly as she curled one thin leg under her andleaned back as though she intended to remain indefinitely in thatcomfortable chair.
The lines of Dixie's sweet mouth became firmer. "Dearie," she said in atone which convinced the listener that she was in earnest, "if you wishbreakfast, you must come to the table." Then more gently she added: "Ifyou were sick and couldn't walk, I'd fetch it to you on a tray. But youcan walk as well as I can, Sylvia."
The pale-blue eyes opened in unfeigned astonishment. "Why, I have alwayshad my breakfast brought to me on a tray," she said. "Fanchon bringsit."
"Of course you do, dearie, at home, where you have a maid to wait onyou, but here we all wait on ourselves. There now, I've put yourporridge in one of our prettiest kept-for-company dishes, and here's apitcher of cream and the sugar. You may eat it when you are ready tocome to the table. Now I'm going up to the loft to make our bed."
Two minutes later Sylvia heard a sweet, birdlike voice trillingoverhead. Ten minutes later, when Dixie reappeared, the small guest wassitting at the table eating the delicious porridge and cream with hungryenjoyment.
"It's 'most as good as cake, isn't it?" Dixie said brightly as she satby the window to mend. There was always something waiting for the littlemother to patch or darn.
Sylvia rather grudgingly had to confess that the porridge was good,adding that the cream in Genoa wasn't so thick and yellow.
"Town cream never is, I guess," Dixie said. Then, that the conversationneed not lag, she told about the recent arrival of the kittens.
The little hostess glanced sideways, and was glad to see an almost eagerexpression on the thin sallow face that was turned toward her. "I'venever seen baby kittens!" Sylvia was saying. "I'd like to."
Dixie laid down her sewing. "If you've finished your breakfast, I'llshow you all over our tiny ranch. We have three hens, too, and a piggieand a burro."
Together they left the house, and before many minutes had passed Sylviawas actually laughing, for the goat was kicking frolicsome heels up atthem as the two little girls stood leaning over the rail fence thatsurrounded the small enclosure. After a time they visited the shed downnear the apple-orchard, and Topsy was induced to come forth into thesunlight and show her babies, who blinked and winked, for their eyes hadnot been open very long, and they wabbled and tumbled down to the greatdelight of the town girl, who had never owned a pet.
"Oh! oh!" she exclaimed joyfully as she picked up the snow-white pussythat was growing whiter and fluffier and more lovable every day, "howI'd like to own this kitty-cat. Can I have it to take home with me tokeep?"
Dixie hesitated, then she added: "I'm sorry, Sylvia, but I couldn't giveDowny-Fluff away. Topsy belongs to me, but that little white kitty isCarol's. You may have the spotted pussy, if you want him."
Sylvia put the white kitten down and walked away as she said: "No, Idon't want that one. I will tell my father to pay you for that whitekitten if you don't want to give it to me."
Dixie flushed and bit her lips while she hurriedly asked herself thegame question: "What would I say or do if I really loved Sylvia?"
Catching the hand of the child, who was beginning to sulk, the oldergirl exclaimed brightly: "Come on and see Pegasus. You may ride him ifyou wish."
The burro came across the barnyard when Dixie called, and nosed herpocket, hoping for a lump of sugar.
Sylvia actually clapped her hands with delight. "I've always wanted toride on a pony, but mother was afraid I would fall. May I ride thiscunning little horse? He's so small it wouldn't hurt me if I did falloff."
Willingly Dixie put the simple harness over the head of themouse-colored burro, and then patiently, for a long hour, she walkedaround and around the house, leading while Sylvia rode. At last as itwas nearing noon the little hostess, weary indeed, suggested that theygo indoors and have their lunch, and afterwards, when Sylvia said shewas sleepy, Dixie hung the hammock under the pines, and the unwelcomeguest curled up in it, and, lulled by the wind in the trees, she wassoon asleep.
Dixie wished that she, too, might rest, but with an added member in herfamily to feed, she set about baking, tired but happy because shebelieved that the "pretend game" was really progressing.