“Yes. Long, long walks. Sometimes with the twins, and sometimes with Carl, though he never wants to go where I want to go, and often by myself. I take a package of bread and cheese because I get hungry very easily, or sometimes some Raisin Delights, and I pretend that I’m going out into the world to seek my fortune. And I walk and walk, sometimes taking this road and sometimes that—until it’s time to turn around and come home.”
“Oh, often. That makes it more exciting than ever.”
“Oh, just sort of cookies, with raisins and cinnamon and orange peel. No one knows how to make them but mother, because you see, she’s the only real Winkler—except Granny, and Granny’s too old to do much in the Bakery any more. When Paul comes of course he’ll learn how, because he’s a real Winkler too.”
Jane, at this, launched into the complete history of her family, charmed to find her listener who was far more interested than he himself was aware of being.
“And—and is this Miss Lily a cousin or something of yours?” inquired Mr. Sheridan, artfully bringing the topic around to the subject that for some reason he found particularly agreeable.
“Oh, she practises on the piano, and sings, and embroiders, and goes to committees with her mother—though I don’t think she likes that much. And then she makes up bundles of things to send to people in China, and goes to see sick people.”
“I guess so. She takes things to poor people—there are a whole lot of them who live along the creek, and she’s awfully good to them.”
“I see,” said Mr. Sheridan. He could not think of anything more to say just then, and after a pause, Jane began to think that she ought to be going.
“Well, good-bye. I hope you’ll feel better after a while,” she said, catching hold of a low hanging branch, preparatory to swinging herself down to earth.
“Thank you.” Mr. Sheridan did not understand why he felt just a trifle foolish. “I hope you will pay me another visit.”
“Oh, but I thought you wanted to be alone,” said Jane, innocently.
“People in general are terrible nuisances,” he said, at length. “I came here to avoid the boredom—that is, at present I am very little in the mood for being bothered by the curiosity of a host of friends and acquaintances. But on the other hand, it would be a pleasure to chat with you now and then.”