Now Janet, let’s get her up on the couch where she can lie more comfortably.”

Janet stopped and swung a strong young arm under the slight girlish form and got her to the couch without trouble. Grandmother came and stood over her, feeling her pulse with a practiced hand.

“You are so good and kind,” murmured the girl with another attempt at a smile. “I’m quite all right now. I really didn’t mean to arrive this way, I really didn’t. But it was just the smell of those heavenly cookies that did it, I think. It kind of overcame me.”

“You dear child!” said Grandmother quickly. “I’ll get you some. You’ve had a long walk and must have been hungry. You probably had your breakfast early.”

“I—didn’t eat any breakfast this morning. I guess that was it.”

“You didn’t eat any breakfast? That’s no way to do. You never should do that! Try to walk on an empty stomach! It’s never wise, especially in hot weather. Why didn’t you eat your breakfast?”

“Well, you see, the train got in early—at least, I thought it was going to—and I didn’t think it was worthwhile to go into the dining car. But then the train was late—”

“Oh! Late, was it?” said Grandmother with a quick look out the door still in search of the missing taxi. “Which way did you come from? South or west?”

“West,” said the girl, drawing a long, trembling breath.

“Oh!” said Grandmother, going over to the door quickly and giving another long look up toward the road from the village. “That explains it then. You see, I’m expecting my granddaughter from the West this morning, and I couldn’t understand why she didn’t arrive. But” —with a quick look at the girl—“if you walked all that distance, she certainly ought to have got here before you in a taxi. She was to take a taxi. Still, perhaps she came on another section. They sometimes have two sections on those through trains, I know.”

The girl on the couch lay very still for a minute with her eyes closed. Then she slowly opened her eyes and looked at the old lady and spoke, hesitantly: “I guess, perhaps she’s here,” she said in a grave, reserved voice. “I couldn’t believe it would be such a wonderful place as this, but if you say you are Mrs. Harmon Ainslee, then it must be true. I’m Sheila Ainslee!”

Chapter 2

Grandmother whirled around and gave one long, penetrating look at the threadbare little waif who had drifted to her door. Then she swung around to the kitchen door and called, “Janet, bring the pitcher of lemonade and some hot cookies right away.”

She said it in the tone in which one might have said, “Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him…and shoes on his feet!”

Then she whirled around to the girl again. “So that’s whose eyes you’ve got—my little Andy’s eyes, and his long bright lashes. I might have known, poor fool I!”

And she was down on her knees beside the couch working with the buttons of the shabby blue coat, pulling off the dejected felt hat, and smoothing back the waves of hair from the white forehead.

But Sheila put up her hands to protect the coat from being unbuttoned and reached ashamedly for her hat. “No, please,” she said feebly. “I’m not fit to be seen until I’ve cleaned up a little. I’ve had five days and nights in the common car, and I’m a sight! My blouse is fairly black! And please, I can’t get fixed up nor anything until I’ve said what I’ve come to say.”

Janet came in just then, and Grandmother rose regally and took the tray from the reluctant Janet, who did not want her cookies and carefully prepared drink wasted on a little tramp-girl.

But Grandmother thoroughly understood Janet.