The Girls of Hillcrest Farm Part 20

Lucas, the faithful, came back to 'Phemie's side, however. Some of the other girls were laughing at Sairy Pritchett and their taunts fed her ire with fresh fuel.

She talked very loud and laughed very much between the numbers of the program, and indeed was not always quiet while the entertainment itself was in progress. This she did as though to show the company in general that she neither cared for the schoolmaster's attentions nor that she considered her friends.h.i.+p with the Bray girls of any importance.

Of course, the girls with whom she had wrangled on the schoolhouse steps were delighted with what they considered Sairy's "let-down." If a girl really came to an evening party with a young man, he was supposed to "stick" and to show interest in no other girl during the evening.

When the intermission came Mr. Somers deliberately took a seat again beside Lyddy.

"Well, I never!" shrilled Sairy. "Some folks are as bold as bra.s.s. Humph!"

Now, as it happened, both Lyddy and the school teacher were quite ignorant of the stir they were creating. The green-eyed monster roared right in their ears without either of them being the wiser. Lyddy was only sorry that Sairy Pritchett proved to be such a loud-talking and rather unladylike person.

But 'Phemie, who was younger, and observant, soon saw what was the matter. She wished to warn Lyddy, but did not know how to do so. And, of course, she knew her sister and the school teacher were talking of quite impersonal things.

These girls expected everybody to be of their own calibre. 'Phemie had seen the same cla.s.s of girls in her experience in the millinery shop.

But it was quite impossible for Lyddy to understand such people, her experience with young girls at school and college not having prepared her for the outlook on life which these country girls had.

'Phemie turned to Lucas--who stuck to her like a limpet to a rock--for help.

"Lucas," she said, "you have been very kind to bring us here; but I want to ask you to take us home early; will you?"

"What's the matter--ye ain't sick; be you?" demanded the anxious young farmer.

"No. But your sister is," said 'Phemie, unable to treat the matter with entire seriousness.

"Sairy?"

"Yes."

"What's the matter with _her_?" grunted Lucas.

"Don't you _see_?" exclaimed 'Phemie, in an undertone.

"By cracky!" laughed Lucas. "Ye mean because teacher's forgot she's on airth?"

"Yes," snapped 'Phemie. "You know Lyddy doesn't care anything about that Mr. Somers. But she has to be polite."

"Why--why----"

"Will you take us home ahead of them all?" demanded the girl. "Then your sister can have the schoolmaster."

"By cracky! is that it?" queried Lucas. "Why--if you say so. I'll do just like you want me to, Miss 'Phemie."

"You are a good boy, Lucas--and I hope you won't be silly," said 'Phemie.

"We like you, but we have been brought up to have boy friends who don't play at being grown up," added 'Phemie, as earnestly as she had ever spoken in her life. "We like to have _friends_, not _beaux_. Won't you be our friend, Lucas?"

She said this so low that n.o.body else could hear it but young Pritchett; but so emphatically that the tears came to her eyes. Lucas gaped at her for a moment; then he seemed to understand.

"I get yer, 'Phemie," he declared, with emphasis, "an' you kin bank on me. Sairy's foolish--maw's made her so, I s'pose. But I ain't as big a fool as I look."

"You don't look like a fool, Lucas," said 'Phemie, faintly.

"You've been brought up different from us folks," pursued the young farmer. "And I can see that we look mighty silly to you gals from the city. But I'll play fair. You let me be your friend, 'Phemie."

The young girl had to wink hard to keep back the tears. There was "good stuff" in this young farmer, and she was sorry she had ever--even in secret--made fun of him.

"Lucas, you are a good boy," she repeated, "and we both like you. You'll get us away from here and let Sairy have her chance at the schoolmaster?"

"You bet!" he said. "Though I don't care about Sairy. She's old enough to know better," he added, with the usual brother's callousness regarding his sister.

"She feels neglected and will naturally be mad at Lyddy," 'Phemie said.

"But if we slip out during some recitation or song, it won't be noticed much."

"All right," agreed Lucas. "I'll go out ahead and unhitch the ponies and get their blankets off. You gals can come along in about five minutes.

Now! Mayme Lowry is going to read the 'Club Chronicles'--that's a sort of history of neighborhood doin's since the last meetin'. She hits on most ev'rybody, and they will all wanter hear. We'll git aout quiet like."

So, when Miss Lowry arose to read her ma.n.u.script, Lucas left his seat and 'Phemie whispered to Lyddy:

"Get your coat, dear. I want to go home. Lucas has gone out to get the team."

"Why--what's the matter, child?" demanded the older sister, anxiously.

"Nothing. Only I want to go."

"We-ell--if you must----"

"Don't say anything more, but come on," commanded 'Phemie.

They arose together and tiptoed out. If Sairy saw them she made no sign, nor did anybody bar their escape.

Lucas had got his team into the road. "Here ye be!" he said, cheerfully.

"But--but how about Sairy?" cried the puzzled Lyddy.

"Oh, she'll ride home with the school teacher," declared Lucas, chuckling.

"But I really am surprised at you, 'Phemie," said the older sister.

"It seems rather discourteous to leave before the entertainment was over--unless you are ill?"

"I'm sorry," said the younger girl, demurely. "But I got _so_ nervous."

"I know," whispered Lyddy. "Some of those awful recitations _were_ trying."

And 'Phemie had to giggle at that; but she made no further explanation.

The ponies drew them swiftly over the mountain road and under the white light of a misty moon they quickly turned into the lane leading to Hillcrest. As the team dropped to a walk, 'Phemie suddenly leaned forward and clutched the driver's arm.

"Look yonder, Lucas!" she whispered. "There, by the corner of the house."

"Whoa!" muttered Lucas, and brought the horses to a halt.