Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1927-04-08
The Little Red-Haired Girl

Invariably accepted the experience like the
thoroughbred she was.
Anne could see yet the look Margaret's
eyes took on at such times-the look OF
eyes gazing into depths from which they
shrank. She seemed, for q shaking instant,
to be seeing it again now, but 1t was only
into the eyes of the child she was looking,
as the latter stood beside her, silently
s%lancing up. Anne caught her lower lip
between her teeth-a trick she had in mo-
ments of deep thought-and looked back.
There was something very unusual in the
little things manner this evening. But
Mrs. Montmorency went on buoyantly.
You're quite late, so / think I'll have to
be the hostess and give you tea. Sit down,
dear Mrs. Demorest. I'll have it ready in
a moment"
But obviously 1t was not TO be that way.
Quietly and firmly the child made her
preparations. The bench became a table.
The table was set. The white pebbles
leaf dishes. There were more dishes shan
usual. There was even an imposing center
piece of field daisies, which, Anne now re-
membered. the little girl had brought with
her when she came. She must have picked
them in a n%eighboring meadow. Obviously,
this was TO be a very special function, a
banquet. Obviously, too, 1t was to be their
last. Anne did not know why she knew
this, or just when she had taken In the
knowledge; but she had 1t now and 1t set
tied down upon her like u coffin lid. Pos
ssibly that odd look in the red-brown eyes
had conveyed it.
The child was going ~away-where to, or
for what length of time, Anne did not
know. She only knew that she was going.
Mrs. Demorest and Mrs. Montmorency
had tea. They had 1t very elegantly, as
was their admirable habit, and Mrs. Mont
morency drank q great many cups of tea
and told a great many stories about the
twins. The twins. it appeared, had been
particularly bad that day.
AS she talked the eyes of Mrs. Mont
morency were steadily on her hostess.
There mist be no slipping away unseen
this time. The child must be followed
home and the little mystery of her parent
age cleared up. In the meantime Mrs.
Montmorency's eyes held to their cyno-
sure. The mite had such an uncanny way
of disappearing, If one even turned ones
head.
Bnt tonight the mite seemed In no haste
to disappear. After tea she put the dishes
away under the rhododendrons, and sitting
quietly beside her guest began to make a
daisy chain. For a moment or two Anne
watched her In silence. She herself had not
made a daisy chain for forty years, but she
caught the trick again after watching the
child's hands and they worked together.
When all of the daisies had been used
Mrs. Montmorency had an inspiration. They
would make a wreath Of the daisy chain.
But they had nothing with which to tie it.
She lo2ked around, then rose, and with q
quick, defiant gesture ripped a long piece
of ivy from the base of the sundiaI. All
wrong, of counsel Nothing in the garden
must be plucked or pulled, and only this
week Michael had proudly pointed to the
ex-chairman of the memorial committee
how wonderfully the ivy, so newly planted,
was growing. But for some reason it was
very important that the daisy wreath
should be exactly right.
Anne went back to the bench with the
dangling piece of ivy In her hand. When
she reached it her eyes met those of the
child. For the first time they held hers
long and deeply. They we're really wonder
full eyes-radiant eyes-eyes like no other
eyes left In the world and they revealed
now the Pickering lights of delight which
had illumined so many mischievous and
childish escapades forty years ago-and SC
many happy moments in later years.
Anne Kimball dropped on her knees be-
fore the small figure on the bench and held
old shaking arms.
"Oh, my dear, my DEAR she cried. ~
know now who you are! / think I've
known from the first moment, but | could.
MT let myself believe. | know. I know.
Yet when you are gone l shall doubt. Oh
my dear, my dear-give me a sign that I'm
right"
She stopped, set her teeth, and pulled
herself together. Then, very slowly, she
rose to her feet and stood still, standing
down Mt the child. The child was no long
er looking at her. She had taken the daisy
chain and the Ivy into her small hands and
was finishing the wreath, her gaze on her