CHAPTER III

FOOD FOR CONSIDERATION

Lilian Boyd did not want to cross the line of division that was acutely
felt and yet so nicely projected that a faint move on her part would
bring about a rebuff. She had the youthful longing for girlish
friendships, for little confidences about books they liked, about aims
and the future. Some of the pupils were so attractive; and it was
because she was the caretaker's daughter; she saw it when they came in
to her mother with any errand, when they passed her in the halls with a
supercilious nod.

But then, why need she care? They would go their way presently and she
might remain. She knew she had won Mrs. Barrington's favor. That lady
made it a point of her joining the Sunday evening singing and she found
that she had a good, flexible voice.

One lovely October afternoon she thought she would walk down to the
river whose banks were now a blaze of color. Some one called and she
turned. It was Alice Nevins who _was_ sometimes tiresome. The girls were
going down in town and one of them had really asked her if she would not
like to join them. A gratified light shone in her eyes for a moment.
There was something in the other's face that gave her a quick warning.
There was some plot underneath.

"Thank you very much but I cannot go this afternoon. I hope you will all
have a nice time."

Then she went to her room. Her mother was folding up some sewing. "There
is so little to do," and she smiled vaguely.

"Come out and walk with me."

"No, I don't feel equal to it, I will put a shawl about me and sit on
the porch."

"Shall I come and read to you?"

"No, dear, it is an effort to listen. I'll just sit and think."

"Mother, are you satisfied here?"

"Oh, my child, I could not have dreamed of anything so comfortable, and
for your sake--you are happy?" with a touch of wistfulness.

"Oh, it is so delightful, and then to think that I shall fit myself for
a nice position presently. Then mother dear we will have a few rooms and
a real home again."

"Oh, you are so good," in a tremulous tone.

Lilian kissed her. She wondered why her mother's eyes rested on her at
times with that unfathomable look and the lips would move, then
suddenly compress.

So she walked down past the summer house where the Virginia creeper was
flaunting long scarlet branches in the wind.

"Oh, Miss Boyd!"

She turned. Alice Nevins ran out. Her face was red and swollen with
weeping.

"Oh, what