Sisters | Page 8

unquestioningly, sometimes resenting his frank
criticism, sometimes grateful for the entertaining he delighted to do for
them, but most often ignoring him, as if he had been an uncle whose
place and standing in the domestic circle was unquestioned, but who
did not really enter into their young plans and lives. He was
whimsically, good-naturedly disapproving of Alexandra, and he frankly
did not like Anne, but he had always been especially indulgent to
Cherry, and had taken the subject of Cherry's schooling and
development very seriously. And Cherry treated him, in return, as if she
had been his demure and mischievous and affectionate daughter.

"'Morning, Peter!" said Doctor Strickland now, smiling at him. "Have
you had yours?"
"My house," said Mr. Joyce fastidiously, "is a well-managed place."
"Of course," Alix said, panting from her welcome to the dog, and
laughing at the newcomer without resentment, "of course it is, for the
President Emeritus of the Maiden Ladies' Guild is running it!"
"Don't be insulting," Peter answered, in the same mood. "Say," he
added, pursing his lips to whistle, as he looked at the rose tree, "did
Tuesday's wind do that?"
"Tuesday's wind and Dad," Alix answered. "Will it go back, Peter?"
"I--I don't know!" he mused, walking slowly about the wreck. "If we
had a lever down here, and some fellow on the roof with a rope,
maybe."
"Mr. Lloyd is coming over!" Alix announced. Peter nodded absently,
but the mention of Martin Lloyd reminded him that they had all dined
at his house on the very evening when the mysterious gale had
commenced, and with interest he asked:
"Cherry catch cold coming home Tuesday night?"
"No; she squeezed in between Dad and me, and was as warm as toast!"
Alix answered casually. "How'd you like Mr. Lloyd?" she added.
"Nice fellow!" Peter answered. Alix grinned. She had before this
accused Peter of violent partisanship with his own sex. He criticized
women severely; the Strickland girls had often been angry and resentful
at his comments upon the insincerity, extravagance, and ignorance of
their own sex, but with Peter, all men were worthy of respect, until
otherwise proved.
"He's awfully nice," Alix agreed.
"Who is he?" Peter asked curiously. "Where are his people and all

that?"
"His people live in Portland," the girl answered. "He's a mining
engineer, and he's waiting now to be called to El Nido; he's to be at a
mine there. He's lots of fun--when you know him, really!"
"Talking of the new Prince Charming, of course," Anne said, joining
them, and linking an arm in her Uncle's and in Alix's arm. "Don't bring
that puppy in, Alix, please! Breakfast, Uncle Lee. Come and have
another cup of coffee, Peter!"
"Prince Charming, eh?" Peter echoed thoughtfully, as they all turned
toward a delicious drift of the odour of bacon and coffee, and crossed
the porch to the dining room. "I was going down for the mail, but now
I'll have to stay and see this rose matter through! Thanks, Anne, but I'll
watch you."
"Afraid of getting fatter?" Alix speculated, shaking out her napkin.
"You ARE fatter," she added, with a calm conviction.
"Do you always say the thing that will give the most offence?" Peter
asked, annoyed. "Where's Cherry?" he added, glancing about.
Cherry answered the question herself by trailing in in a Japanese
wrapper, and beginning to drink her coffee with bare, slender arms
resting on the table. Nobody protested, the adored youngest was usually
given her way. Alix's indifference to the niceties of her toilet had been
seriously combated, years ago, but Cherry was so young, and so pretty
in any dress or undress, that it was impossible to regard her little lapses
with any gravity. Moreover, the family realized perfectly that Alix
would have clipped her thick hair, and taken to bloomers or
knickerbockers outright, at the slightest encouragement, and would
gladly have breakfasted in a wrapper, or in her petticoats, or while
about the woods with her dogs, whereas nobody could know Cherry
and not know that every weakness of which the feminine heart is
capable, for frills and toilet waters, creams and laces, was dormant
under the childish negligence.

"I heard you all laughing, under the window and it--woke--me--up!"
Cherry said dreamily.
"It seems to me," Anne, who had been eying her uneasily, said lightly,
"that someone I know is getting pretty old to come downstairs in that
rig when strangers are here!"
"It seems to me this is just as decent as lots of things--bathing suits, for
instance!" Cherry returned instantly, gathering the robe about her, and
giving Anne a resentful glance over her blue cup.
"Peter, are you a stranger?" Alix said. "If Peter's a stranger," she added
animatedly, "what is an intimate friend? Peter walks through this house
at all hours;