The Conways

Chapter I

In the sitting-room of a ptetty home in a western village, Oakwood, sat a girl of sixteen, reading a letter.

“They will be here at this time to-morrow, mother, ” she said, looking up as a sweet-faced lady entered the room ; “and Fm almost as sorry as glad.’'

‘ ‘ Why so ? I should think you would be delighted to have Rob and Zana with you for a few weeks.

“So I should if this place were not so dead. We have no amusements here, you know, and they have lived where there is always something going on. Sometimes I have felt as if I should fly when I have read their letters telling of their good times. I hate to live in a place like this, mother ! Pretty soon I’ll be old and can’t have a good time, and then what shall I have to look back to ? I feel just as if I were wasting valuable,time.” -

“Poor little girl ! ” said the mother, stroking thesoft brown hair. “I think, at your age, I shotild have felt just as you do. I must talk to father and-’’

“Not send me away, mammy dear!'" was the quick reply. “ I couldn’t have a good time away from you. I’d rather stay here until I’m a dned-up old woman with all the fun squeezed out of me, than to go away from you.”

“ She’s mother’s baby yet! ” said the mother softly, drawing the girl, who was nearly as tall as herself, to a seat on her knee. “You can’t think how happy you make me, Gracie dear,” she continued. “I have been selfish not to have thought more of your pleasure.”

“ Don’t talk that way, little mother. There isn’t another mother in the world half so perfect as you are. ”

“You bet there isn’t ! ” exclaimed a boyish voice, and a tall, merry-faced, curly-haired boy rushed into the room, and pulled his sister from her seat on the mother’s knee.

“Get up, Grace,” he commanded. “Aren’t you ashamed to tire mother out in that wayI want to sit here myself ! ”

He seated himself on his mother’s knee, and held his feet up that she might more fully realize his pres¬ ence, he told her ; but in less than a second he sprang up again.

“Ouch ! ” he exclaimed, “’tisn’t fair to use pins, mother! ”

“’Tisn'f fair for an overgrown boy of eighteen to bear his whole weight on his poor old mother’s knee, ” ^^she retorted, laughing.

“Oh, Ned!” exclaimed Grace, ‘‘they're coming to-morrow, ”

“Who?”

“Just as if you'd forgotten 1 Why, Zana and Rob, to be sure.”

“Well, can’t you let them come ? ” asked Ned.

“ I want them to come, of course; but what are we going to do with them ? ”

“ I don't know. I'm sure 1 Couldn't we put them on ice ? ”

“ Now, Ned, please be good 1 ”

“Well, then, we might roll them up in waxed paper and lay them away where the rats couldn’t get them ? ”

“Ned, you’re dreadfully provoking ! You don’t try to help me out, at all ; and they’re to be your guests as well as mine.”

“You don’t explain yourself properly,” protested Ned. “How should I know what you want to do with them ? ”

“ I want to enterljjiin them-”

“Oh, is that all 1 Send them out to help me chop wood. ”

“—Arid you know as well as I do that this'is the deadest place that ever lived I ” exclaimed Grace, now thoroughly exasperated.

“ Oh, the deadest place that ever lived ! ” Ned fell to the floor, where he lay stretched at full length.

“ Fan me, mother ; I’m faint ! ”

He gasped for breath, and kept his eyes closed for the space of three seconds, then he was suddenly roused by a dash of cold water in his face.

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** Sure cure for fainting ! ’’ exclaimed Grace, disap¬ pearing quickly through the door, and rushing up¬ stairs two steps at a bound with Ned close behind her. She succeeded in reaching her own room and bolting the door before he could catch her, then, for a little while, quiet reigned in the home of the Con¬ ways.

For some time after the children had left her, Mrs. Conway sat lost in thought, from which she was aroused by the coming of her husband.

Grace is right," she said, looking up as he bent over her. ‘‘ Life here must be very dull to an active young girl."

^‘Now what.?" asked the husband quizzically. ‘‘Remember, you haven’t favored me with the first part of the thought."

“ Grace made a complaint which set me to think¬ ing," she said, then repeated the conversation already recorded.

“I have been so intent on bringing her up to be a companion for myself," she continued, “and so happy to have her always near me, that I never stopped to consider whether she were content or not."

“She certainly does not appear unhappy,” replied Mr. Conway. “ No one would imagine it to have heard her just now."

“ I like to have her romp," answered Mrs. Con¬ way, laughing. “I want her to enjoy all sorts of healthy fun ; it is the unhealthy fun I dread. When I think of the ways in which the modern society girl seeks amusement, the dances and card parties-"

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Grade is not old enough for such things any¬ how/’ interposed the father, quickly.

“She is sixteen, and already longing for such amusements as other young people have. Tm afraid if I don’t provide something she will be tempted to look elsewhere for it; and Ned is in no less danger. ”

“Well, what do you propose to do—invite them in and entertain them with cards and dancing ? ”

“ I believe I would do so rather than have my children go away from home to learn such things,” answered the mother with a smile. “ I’m going to set my wits to work first, however, to see if I can¬ not find some more innocent amusement for them. Will you help ? ”

“ If I can, but I fear that I shall be of little use. ”

“You may be of great use from a financial stand¬ point.”

Mr. Conway clutched his pocket-book, in mock dismay, and raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

“ It would cost a great deal were we to introduce our daughter into fashionable society,” said Mrs. Conway. “ I’ll endeavor to make my experiment cost less than that would. ”

“All right, then; I’ll stand by you; only you must not bankrupt me.”

The conversation was interrupted by a violent knocking on the hall door, which sounded as if half a dozen pairs of fists were at work there.

“ Hello, there !” shouted Ned, opening the door so suddenly that the two young people outside nearly fell at full length on the hall floor.

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“ What are you here for, at this time of day?"' he asked hospitably.

“ Thought we'd surprise you ! " was the laughing reply. “We wrote to you to expect us to-morrow, just for the fun of the thing. Where is Grace.? ’’

“ I treed her just now ! ”

“ You what! Oh, here she is.”

“Mercy, Ned!” exclaimed Grace, “why didn’t you invite them in .? ”

“ Trying to make up my mind whether we’d bet¬ ter let them in before to-morrow,” was Ned’s saucy reply, as he dexterously slipped his hand between Zana’s and Grace’s lips when they undertook to kiss each other, then unceremoniously helped Rob through the door by his coat collar.

“ Ned is just as mean as ever, isn’t he.?” asked Zana.

‘ ‘ Every bit 1 ” answered Grace, with a look which showed plainly that she considered her brother vefy nearly perfect.

“Ned, dear!” expostulated Mrs. Conway, who had come into the hall just in time to see Ned drag¬ ging his guest over the threshold, “ you should not be so rough. What will Rob think of you.? ”

“ I think he’s glad to see me, ” replied Rob, shak¬ ing hands with Mrs. Conway. “ Boys don’t have to kiss each other every time they meet, as girls do. They have other ways of showing their de¬ light.”

“More emphatic, but quite as soulful,” added Ned, and the two boys laughed so heartily that Mrs. Conway was sure there must be a very good joke

II somewhere, and quite sorry that she was too old to appreciate it.

“Well,'’ she said, “since you seem to understand Ned’s welcome, I don’t know as I should complain of it. Although I have made the subject ‘ boys’ a study for eighteen years, ” putting her hand on her son’s shoulder, “ I must confess they are something of a puzzle to me yet. ”

“What a nice mother you have ! ” exclaimed Rob, a few minutes later, when the two boys were left to themselves.

“ I wouldn’t trade her for all the other mothers in the world,” answered Ned. “She’s lots of fun, too.”

“ Is she.? I thought she didn’t look awfully horri¬ fied at the way we came in. We are dying for fun, Ned, and we let ourselves loose the minute we stepped off the cars. ”

“ Dying for fun ! ” exclaimed Ned. “ Why, I should think you’d be tired of it, if one might judge by your letters. ”

“Oh, that wasn’t fun ! We went to theatres and young people’s parties, and dancing-school, and— and everything else that’s silly ; but we didn’t have one bit of real fun, such as we used to have when we all visited grandpa on the farm. Oh, Ned ! do you remember our barge } ”

“And when we rode a race on the oxen !” ex¬ claimed Ned. “That was the worst ride I ever took.”

“You landed in the pig-pen, if I remember cor¬ rectly,” said Rob, choking with laughter.

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^‘Oh, that pig! What a time we had trying to keep him in the pen !

“ How mad the girls got because we tumbled him in head first. Do you remember when we tied a string from his tail to his ears-’’

‘‘—And you held the girls while I dragged an ear of corn in front of him-”

“—And he’d turn a somersault every time he put his head down to get it-”

‘‘—And the girls I didn’t they struggle 1 They thought we were hurting the pig.”

As the boys continued comparing notes of one summer, four years ago, when the cousins visited together at the home of Grandpa Conway, they laughed so heartily at every fresh recollection that Mrs. Conway, who was at work in an adjoining room, laughed softly to herself in sympathy.

All young people fell in love with Mrs. Conway,

‘ ‘ because, ” they said, ‘ ‘ she never forgot that she was young, once, and wanted to have a good time.”

“Mother knows just how girls feel about things,” said Grace, as she helped Zana lay aside her wraps in her own room. Zana had been asking if Aunt Mary would think Rob and herself “perfectly awful. ”

“ Ned and I act ten times worse every day,” an¬ swered Grace, “and mamma only laughs. She couldn’t scold, you see, for she plays too. She’s as good as a girl any day.”

‘ ‘ Oh, dear! you ought to be perfectly happy, Grace. You can’t imagine what it is to have an aunt who goes into hysterics over everything, and

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n

a mother who scolds and complains all the time. ”

“You poor dear! ” said Grace, “ it must be dread¬ ful. I do hope you’ll have a good time while you’re here; but everything is so dull! I’m afraid you’ll nearly die of homesickness. ”

‘ ‘ I guess not, ” replied Zana. ‘ ‘ I’ve brought quan¬ tities of books, and then we have so much to tell each other that we’ll have to talk hours and hours ; besides, I want to be out of doors enough to get tanned, or the girls in our set won’t believe I’ve been rusticating at all. Several of them, whose fathers couldn’t afford to send them put of the city this summer, shut them¬ selves up in back rooms and pretended that they were away from home.”

“ How could they do a thing like that ! ” exclaimed Grace.

“They did. I wouldn’t, and I was awfully mad when mamma and auntie went to the sea-shore, and left me at home.”

“I should think you would have been glad to have your mother go, even if you couldn’t,” said Grace.

/‘There was no more reason why she should go than why I should,” was the reply. “She didn’t go into society any more during the winter, and was no more nearly worn out. I made such a fuss, how¬ ever, that papa promised to let me spend the fall months with you, then I was perfectly satisfied. ”

“ Put in an appearance, girls ! ” shouted Ned, from the foot of the stairs; “that is, if you care to go with us.”

“ Where are you going ? ” asked Grace.

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U

“To the Holbrook farm for plums, and we start in three minutes/'

“So do we ! ” answered Grace. “ Hurry, Zana ! Put on the oldest dress you have, for plum stains are hard to remove."

“My trunk has not arrived, and Tve only a teagown in my valise. ”

“Nice one? "

“A beauty. Silk.”

“It won’t do. Here, put on this.”

“Oh, Grace, it’s too short! I’d look like a fright. I’m going to wear what I have on.”

“Come, girls ! ” called Ned from the street.

Very soon the four young people were riding through the little village, and out into the beautiful country, which was just changing its dress of green for a brighter one of red and yellow and brown.

‘ ‘ Did you have a pleasant time, children .? ” asked Mrs. Conway, a few hours later, when the young people flocked into the dining-room.

“ Prime ! ” answered the boys.

“ I’m afraid Zana didn’t,” said Grace. “She can’t stand romping as well as I can.”

“ I’m tired to death ! ” wailed Zana, throwing her¬ self on the dining-room lounge; “and my pretty travelling dress is completely ruined.”

“Why did you wear it ? ” asked Ned, bluntly.

“ It was all I had here. Besides, how should I know what was to happen ? If I’d known that you boys were going to act as you did, I should have stayed at home.”

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‘^That’s what you’d better do next time, Zana, unless you can dress for the occasion,” replied Rob.

“ What did the boys do, dear.?” asked Mrs. Con¬ way.

‘‘Why, they pelted us with plums,” began Zana, laughing at the recollection in spite of herself, “ and they put me up on the branch of a tree, where I was so frightened I thought I’d drop, and— and-”

“And they rolled her up tight in the lap-robe,” interrupted Grace, “and pinned it close, then stood her up and left her. She couldn’t move ! I never saw anything so funny in all my life ! ”

Grace and the boys laughed heartily at the recol¬ lection, and Zana could not keep her face straight, though she tried to.

“Why did you not go to her assistance, Grace?” asked Mrs. Conway.

“I didn’t see what they were doing, just at first. I was up in the branches of a splendid plum tree, try¬ ing to shake down the plums-”

“ Grace climbs just like a boy,” complained Zana.

“But I hurried down as fast as I could,” continued Grace.

“And when you were down what did you do.? Please explain ! ” said Rob.

“ Yes,” chimed in Ned. “ What did you do, ma’am ? ”

“ Well,” confessed Grace, “I didn’t do much but stand still and laugh. I couldn’t, Zana,” apologeti¬ cally, “ for the boys had you safe, and were ready

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l6

to give their whole attention to me. Besides, you did look so funny standing like—like-’’

“—A hitching-post,” supplied Rob.

“ Zana can’t help herself one bit,” said Ned, half scornfully, “she hasn’t a cent’s worth of muscle. I tell you, Rob, a fellow has to work when he gets into a tussle with Grace. ”

“I have never been very strong,” said Zana, plaintively. She thought it was a fine thing to be considered delicate.

“Whydidn’t you run when you saw us coming? ” demanded Ned. “Instead, she gets all in a heap, just this way, mother, and goes ‘ Ow—wow—wow w-o-o-w ! P-l-e-a-s-e don’t touch me, boys ! ’ ”

There was a general laugh over Ned’s funny mimicry; then Mrs. Conway told the young people to take their places at the table, for tea was ready.

“Can’t I have mine here?” asked Zana. “I’m actually too tired to move.”

“ Don't let her,” said Ned to Rob, before any one else could speak, and that young man acted promptly on the suggestion.

“Arouse yourself, gentle maiden,” he said, lifting Zana to her feet and leading her to the table. “You can’t have folks trotting around to wait on you, here, as you do at home. ”

“Very true!” exclaimed Ned. “Rob, you’re a boy of great common-sense. I’m another I Zana needs a course of training, and I’m perfectly willing to assist you. ”

“Thank you,” answered Rob, gravely. “I shall not hesitate to call on you.”

*‘Boys, you are too bad!” exclaimed Grace.

Zana is really tired.”

“ If she had got tired working we wouldn’t have touched her,” said Ned; “but she shouldn’t be so silly as to tire herself out at play. ”

“ I’d like to know how I could help it I ” retorted Zana.

“You shouldn’t get tired so easy,” replied Ned, who saw no reason why all girls should not be as physically strong as his sister.

“ Have you read the McKinley‘Bill, Ned,” asked Mr. Conway, in order to change the conversation, which was becoming too personal to please him.”

“ Yes, sir,” replied Ned, enthusiastically. “Fine, isn’t it } ”

“Fine 1 ” echoed Grace, somewhat scornfully, “I don’t see anything fine about it.”

“Father, I believe Grace is getting to be a Demo¬ crat,” said Ned. “You ought to put a stop to it.”

“I’m not a Democrat,” protested Grace. “ Fm a Third Party Prohibitionist, and you know it.”

“It’s the same thing,” said Ned, “ or nearly so. Father ought to attend to you.”

“ Grace has as much right to her opinions as you have to yours,” said Mr. Conway. “ I have no wish to prevent her from standing by the principles which seem nearest right to her.”

“How are you going to vote.?” asked Grace turning to Rob.

“ I don’t know,” answered Rob, hesitatingly. “I haven’t thought much about it yet. There’s time enough. ”

i 8

“ A boy of eighteen not thought anything about politics ! ” exclaimed Grace. “ Why, I had settled convictions when I was thirteen ! ”

“ And you’ve changed them every year since \” retorted her brother.

“ I changed because I had good reasons for doing so, didn’t I, mamma } ”

“ Mere whim,” persisted Ned.

“ I don’t see how you find time to study such things,” said Zana. “ I never do, and shouldn’t like it if I did. Seems to me there are men enough to attend to politics without our troubling ourselves about them.”

‘‘Why, Zana, it’s fun!” exclaimed Grace, then turned her attention to the political discussion going on between her father and brother.

When the young people had gone to their rooms for the night, Mr. Conway said gravely :

“ Mary, do you think Zana is the right sort of companion for our little girl ? ”

“ Why notasked Mrs. Conway.

“She seems to me to be very frivolous. I can’t see what brother William is thinking of.”

“Business, I suppose,” replied Mrs. Conway; “ and his wife is evidently thinking of society. I imagine they do not have much time left for their children. The idea of a girl of sixteen going into society like a grown woman ! Do you know, my heart aches for that child 1 ”

“But her influence over Grace ; have you thought of that ? ”

“We must not borrow trouble. Grace will have

THE CONIVAYS, to meet such girls after awhile, and I’d rather she began seeing them at home. She may be carried away just at first, but I don’t believe our work for the last sixteen years is to be entirely in vain.”

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CHAPTER 11.

“To-morrow is Ned’s birthday,” said Grace on the first morning after the arrival of her cousins. “ Don’t say anything about it before him, for I think he has forgotten all about it. We’re going to sur¬ prise him, you know.”

“We didn’t know,” replied Rob; “in fact, we don’t know yet.”

“We’re going to have a party, and—hush! there he comes. Yes, Zana,” holding a card-case before Zana’s eyes, “I think that is very well done, don’t you.?”

“Oh, say it is beautiful 1 ” exclaimed Ned, dramati¬ cally, “call it perfectly wonderful, immense, gor¬ geous, anything to have it over with. There is one thing you have yet to learn, my child,” he added, patting Zana’s cheek in a patronizing way, as he passed her to throw himself at full-length on the lounge, “and that is this : You must praise every¬ thing Grace does. You’ll have to do it sooner or later, and the quicker you do it the quicker you’ll get through with a disagreeable job, and—Oh, Grace, I beg! ”

“ You’ll have to beg very humbly this time, young man,” answered Grace, who had seated herself on her brother’s chest and was holding firmly to both

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of his ears. “It isn’t often that I get a chance like this, my dear, and I mean to improve it. Are you obliged to praise everything I do ? ” giving his ears a little jerk.

“Ouch ! No ! Good gracious, no ! ”

“You never praise anything unless you think it deserves praise ? ”

“Never, so help me George Washington ! ”

“But everything I do deserves praise.?”

“ Everything ! Don’t pull so ! ”

“ Is it a disagreeable job to praise me ? ”

“It’s stacks of fun ! ” with a groan.

“ Don’t you dare to groan ! Now say, ‘ To praise you is one of the pleasantest duties of my life.’”

“To praise me—Oh no. I’ll say it right! To praise you is one of the pleasantest duties of my life.”

“All right, you may get up, now ; but first promise not to touch me tor half an hour. ”

Ned promised, and Grace allowed him to get up.

“ You have a good chance, now ; pay her back,” suggested Rob.

“No, I won’t break my promise even in play,” answered Ned. “She got the advantage this time, and it’s all right. Next time I’ll be looking out.”

“Why didn’t you shake her off.? ” inquired Rob.

‘‘ Shake her off 1 ” exclaimed Ned. ‘‘ You’ve never had a trial of strength with Grace, or you’d know it isn’t so easy. Why, she’s nearly as strong as I am. Besides, my hands were under my back.”

‘ ‘ I think it is awful for a girl to be so strong, ” said Zana, languidly.

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**I think it is fine!” answered Grace. “I don't see why I shouldn’t be strong, as well as Ned. I don’t like girls who are always complaining. ”

“Nor I,” replied Rob ; “but most of them seem to ache somewhere all the time, and are ready to break into pieces if they are touched.”

“ Girls were not meant to be as strong as boys,” said Zana, “and no one likes a mannish girl. Many and many a time I’ve heard gentlemen, yes and ladies too, laugh about mannish girls. It’s well enough to be strong out here in the country where no one knows anything about it, and a strong girl can have lots more fun ; but in society—goodness, Grace 1 I should be mortified to death to have my friends know how strong you are 1 Don’t you remember Miss Swaim, Rob ? ”

“Remember her!” Rob and Zana laughed heartily. “Once seen, never forgotten!” he con¬ tinued. “She believed in Woman Suffrage, and when she was on the street she actually looked more like a man than a woman. Once she horse¬ whipped a man, and—Oh dear ! I can’t begin to tell all the awful things she has done.”

“Grace,” called Mrs. Conway from the kitchen, “ there is work to be done this morning ; had you forgotten ? ”

“Very nearly,” replied Grace, running to the kitchen, glad to be where she could think it all over, alone.

Grace had always been very proud of her good health, and often boasted that she had never been sick in bed a day in her life ; now she almost wished

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that her cheeks were a little paler, and that she hadn't used quite so much strength in holding her brother on the lounge. She certainly did not want to be laughed at by ladies and gentlemen.

‘‘Mother has always liked to have me well and strong,’’ she said afterwards, when talking it over again with Zana.

‘‘Of course, ” was the reply. “ Mothers are always afraid their children are going to die, you know ; and they’d rather have them as strong and awkward as elephants than to lose them. That is, some mothers would. I’m not so sure about my mother, but I know yours would feel that way about it. You’ve got an awfully nice mother, Grace, but she isn’t the least bit stylish. You couldn’t depend on her judgment at all if you wanted to go into society, because she is really behind the times.

“I don’t care if she is,” answered Grace, hotly, “I wouldn’t change her for all the other mothers in the world.”

“Neither would I if I had her,” confessed Zana, so earnestly that peace was established between the cousins at once.

“Now we are alone,” said Grace, “I must tell you what we are going to do to-morrow. I do hope Ned will be surprised for once ; he is the worst boy I ever saw about finding out things we try to keep secret. I’his time he seems to have forgotten what time of the month it is. ”

“It is so nice to remember the birthdays,” said Zana. “We never do at our house. It would be so expensive.”

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Can’t you have inexpensive entertainments ?''

“Oh, no ! Why, folks would say that we were on the road to the poorhouse. We have to entertain all our set, when we entertain at all, and so we only give a ball once a year, and have one or two receptions, and a dinner or two—just as little as we can get along with. When we do entertain, we invite everybody who has invited us, and get through with our society obligations in a wholesale man¬ ner.”

“Well,” said Grace, “I shouldn’t like that at all. We invite people because we like to have them come, not because they have invited us ; and we have something going on in honor of every birthday and all the other holidays. ”

“ How can your father afford so many entertain¬ ments ? ”

“They don’t cost much.”

“Oh, thats it ! ” Zana’s lip curled quite disdain¬ fully.

“We have real good times,” faltered Grace.

“Oh, I suppose so! We are not expected to ppear in full dress, then } ”

“ I shall wear my garnet cashmere.”

“And I.?”

“The dress you have on will be plenty good enough.”

“I shouldn’t care to appear in any such style 1 I shall wear my blue silk, I think.”

An hour later, Grace found her way to her mother’s bedroom.

“Do you know, mother,” she said, “I almost wish we were not going to have the party to-morrow night. ”

“What, not notice Ned's birthday! Why, Grace ? ”

“ I’m sure Rob and Zana will think it very stupid, and—and you know, mother, they do things very differently.”

“Then they’ll enjoy our way of doing things all the more. Don’t worry, pet ; I’m sure we shall all have a very nice time.”

“I hope so.” Grace smiled faintly. “Mother, I suppose you'll think I’m silly, but sometimes I wish I could have good times in the way Zana does. I’ve heard other girls tell about them, and—well, ours seem so tame in comparison 1 ”

Mrs. Conway was silent, and there was a thought¬ ful look in her dark eyes, as she gently stroked her daughter’s hair.

“Mamma dear, forgive me!” Grace threw her arms around her mother’s neck and kissed her. “I’m just as ungrateful and horrid as any one can be. You do everything forme, and still I complain, and I’m not worth a second thought. Please forget it, mother, and I’ll promise to be more contented and unselfish.”