Page:Stewart Edward White--The Rose Dawn.djvu/99

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THE ROSE DAWN
87

them she explored the entire countryside, displaying a fine disregard for roads.

She saw plainly enough, though the Colonel did not, Brainerd's pride, and the method he was taking to show it. One time, after Brainerd had been settled about a year, she took with her a cake. Brainerd could hardly refuse that, especially as the gift was ostensibly made to Daphne, not to him. Daphne, as may be imagined, was immensely pleased with the ponies, not to speak of comfortable, sympathetic, black-eyed Mrs. Peyton. The cake having been well digested, it was followed by a hot dish, carefully pinned in napkins.

"Once in a while Sing Toy manages to make something that is pretty good," said Allie, "and I am so pleased that I want to show off about it."

The something hot was merely half of a substantial meat pie with vegetables in it—a meal in itself. Brainerd felt uncomfortably that he was being come over; but Mrs. Peyton looked him blandly in the eye, and he decided to say nothing. Other hot dishes came at intervals; then some of the raw materials.

"Brought you over a few carrots and potatoes," she announced cheerfully. "I want you to compare them with yours. I believe that perhaps vegetables raised in the foothills have a little more flavour."

Brainerd had few fresh vegetables. At that period he was living mainly on staple groceries. Mrs. Peyton never explored about when she came over for a visit, but drove directly to the bungalow and directly away again. How much did the woman know, anyway?

"You must let me know which you think better," she was saying. This went on for some time. Then one morning one of the Colonel's Mexicans came loping over, carrying by the bale a stoppered milk can which he left without comment. The next day he reappeared, bearing another can, and taking the old one away. Brainerd was not at home either tune. He was exceedingly angry. This was going too far. It smacked of actual charity. He was simmering; and he made it a point to be at the bungalow next morning at the hour when the Mexican might be expected to appear. He did not come; but Mrs. Peyton did,