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  CHAPTER X

  MAIDS

  And later Sidney wrote the following letter to her sisters.

  "Dear Family:

  "I have not written before because everything is so marvellously exciting. My telegram told you that I had arrived safely at Cousin Achsa's. The hours of my journey, all too short, sped on wings of happiness. Thus they are still speeding. This is the loveliest and the unusualest place and it is filled with quaint homes and the most interesting people. Our relatives are among the most aristocratic and Aunt Achsa, she wants me to call her that, is of the proudest blood of Cape Cod. She is very nice to me and asks a great many questions about you all and about our mother. She has a nephew who lives here who is only a year older than I am. And a family friend of Aunt Achsa's lives here summers and he takes Lavender (which is our cousin's name) and me out on a big boat which is most exciting.

  "There is a girl about my own age who lives right next door and I think we will be very good friends. She is not at all like Nancy which I am glad as variety is the sauce of living. She is of pure Cape Cod blood, too.

  "If I do not write often and only very little letters it is because I'm so busy, for I must make the most of every minute. I wish you would write to me an awful lot though and please send all of Vick's letters to me so that I will know what she's doing just as though I was home, and Trude, _you_ write every day. And when you write to Vick tell her that I am having the most wonderful time. Be sure to do that. Loads and loads of love,

  "Your sister, Sidney."

  Kneeling against a half-packed trunk, Trude read Sidney's letter aloudto Isolde. Victoria had gone the day before.

  "What do you think?" Trude asked, slowly, as she finished.

  "Think? What do you mean? I'm glad the child's there safe and happy."

  "But, Issy, that letter doesn't ring just--true. I know how Sid usuallywrites and talks. It's too brief and there's something, well--forcedabout it."

  Isolde put down a box of papers she had been sorting over. Herconscience had troubled her not a little at letting Sidney go off aloneamong strangers, even though they were relatives, and now Trude'sdoubts sharpened the pricks.

  "Forced? I didn't notice it. It was short, of course, but probably sheis having too good a time to write a longer letter. Anyway, Trude,she's there safe, and we're almost packed and our tickets arebought--it isn't going to do anyone a bit of good, now, to upset allour plans and bring Sid home. That's the way I look at it. And shewould have been perfectly wretched here with the League Conventionfilling the house. It's dreadful to contemplate."

  "I can't bear to think of Sid going out on boats with a harum-scarumboy--" Trude groaned.

  "I don't feel half as concerned over the boats as I do wondering ifliving there in luxury may not spoil her for her own poor home--makeher dissatisfied. She is probably meeting all the wealthy summerpeople--there are a lot on the Cape, you know."

  Trude was still studying the letter as though to find something betweenthe written lines.

  "She wants me to write every day. That sounds a little homesicky. Well,I will, bless the kid's heart--no matter how rushed I am. And I willwarn her in every letter to be careful around the boats. And not to gether head turned by our relatives' high estate, either. Isn't it funny,Issy, that we never knew they were wealthy--until now? Not that itwould have made a bit of difference with Mother or Dad," she finished,defensively.

  Isolde, her conscience quieted for the hundreth time, turned herattention to her box. She lifted out a small packet of letters tiedtogether and handed them to Trude.

  "These are yours."

  One slipped from the packet and fell to the floor between the twogirls. Trude picked it up quickly, a deep crimson sweeping her face.

  "Why, it's one of _those letters_--" exclaimed Isolde, accusingly.

  Trude nodded, guiltily. "I know it. I--I couldn't bear to destroy themall."

  "Trude, dear, you don't care anything about that man--now?"

  Trude forced a light laugh but her eyes avoided Isolde's searchingglance. "Why, no--at least not in _that_ way. If you like things in aperson very much you just have to keep on liking them no matter whathappens. And, Issy, it wasn't his fault that I--I imagined--hecared--for me--" Her voice broke. Isolde gave a quick little cry.

  "Trude, you _do_ care! And he isn't worth the tiniest heartache. He_must_ have led you on to think things. And all the time he was playingwith you. It makes me _furious_! You're such an old peach."

  The "old peach" made no answer. There flashed across her mind all thatIsolde had had to say before about this man; every fibre of her beingshrank from a repetition that would bring pain as well as humiliation.She straightened.

  "We are a couple of geese to dig all this up now. I was justsentimental enough to hang on to one of the letters--I suppose it'sbecause they are the only letters I've ever had from a man--but I seemy mistake now. I will destroy it." She slipped the letter into herpocket with the tiniest sigh. "So there." (But the letter was notdestroyed.)

  "I wish you'd meet someone down at the Whites'--some perfectly grandman. I should think Uncle Jasper would realize--"

  Isolde's tone was so tragic that Trude laughed, now with genuineamusement. "I was thinking of some of Uncle Jasper's friends," sheexplained. "They are mostly nice, fat settled bankers and lawyers, butif any bachelor doctors, tinkers or tailors slip in I promise to flirtdesperately--"

  "Trude, you think I am joking and I am not. If you don't meet someoneat the Whites' where _will_ you meet him? What chance have you and I,shut up here, to know the kind of men we'd--we'd like to know? Do youthink I enjoy the namby-pamby sort that flock here to sit in Dad'schair? No, indeed. And Trude--I'm--twenty-six next October! _I'm--anold maid!_"

  Before Isolde's earnestness Trude unknowingly lowered her voice to asoft note. "Do you feel like that, too, Issy? I've felt that way often.I'm twenty-four. But I'm not afraid of being an old maid--I've alwayssort of known I'd be one--but I catch myself just longing to do_something_ with my life, different--as little Sid put it. Then Ichastise myself severely for my repinings. Anyway, it'll be funwatching Vick's and Sid's experiences, won't it? Bless them, they seemto have escaped our bounds, don't they?"

  "I am afraid my vicarious enjoyment of their adventures may be temperedwith a little jealousy. I am not as noble as you are, Trude. It is hardto think that you and I have to go on sitting still and watching ourlives go by--and our one and only life, remember!"

  Trude shook herself a little--perhaps she was "chastising" her innerspirit. "Come, we mustn't get mopey on the eve of a holiday. They'retoo rare to spoil. And two trunks still to pack. Do you think theLeaguers will mind if we shroud that painting in the living-room. It'sthe best thing we own and I hate to have it get too dusty."

  Isolde lifted her shoulders rebelliously. "I don't know what hashappened to me but, do you know, Trude, I am beginning to think it'sthe limit that we have to consider the League in even a little thinglike that. Thank goodness we _are_ going to have a holiday! But Iwonder if the summer will bring anything to any of us."

  In answer Trude smiled down into the trunk. "Well--it's bringingsomething to Sid. Rather she went out and got it. And it surely will toVick, new clothes if nothing more. And I hope it will to you, too,Issy, dear, something grand and--contenting."

  It was typical of Trude that she did not think of herself.