the summer kitchen and was pulling down the sleeves of his shirt. He was looking at her out of the sides of his eyes, a thin, sallow boy of eighteen with a shock of stiff mouse-coloured hair.
"Set the chairs up, Perkin," said Mrs. Heaslip, and the youth glided to do her bidding with the same secretive quietness of movement as the old people.
"May I help?" inquired Delight, coming forward timidly.
"You can set those on the table." She handed a dish of fried potatoes to Delight who all but dropped them when she saw how few there were. She could easily have eaten them all herself.
"Now we'll sit down if you are ready, Pa," said Mrs. Heaslip.
Her husband marked the place in his Bible, laid it down, and came to his place at the head of the table, smiling at her. He said mildly to Delight:
"This young man is Perkin Heaslip, our adopted son. I hope you and him will get on."
The boy smiled sheepishly at his plate.
Mrs. Heaslip said:
"Young folks always get on together. In a lonesome place like this you could hardly help it, could you?"
Delight scarcely heard what was being said. Like a greedy child she watched Mr. Heaslip lay a bit of cold meat and a small spoonful of potatoes on her plate. She ate them quickly and then noticed with dismay that the others had not much more than begun their helping. Covered with confusion she sat with eyes downcast, her long lashes shadowing the velvet bloom of her cheeks. The three Heaslips observed her beauty with furtive glances, and seemed silently to discuss her points among themselves, as they partook of the light meal.
