Monteagle by Pansy

MRS. HAMMOND herself boarded at the hotel, but it suited her best to have little Ethel sit in her high chair at the table in the tent, and take her oatmeal and milk and other wholesome dainties, in company with Jeannette and Dilly. It also suited her to come often, before the meal was concluded, and sit beside Ethel and watch her pretty attempts to feed herself. It was when Ethel was eating one by one, great ripe blackberries, that her mother came, and drawing a chair to her side, watched the plump cheeks and pretty little mouth with a sigh of relief. Whatever might be said of her son, certainly her baby was thriving on Monteagle.

The mother had dark rings under her eyes, and traces of sleeplessness on her face. Dilly, looking at her compassionately, wanted to ask if she had seen Mr. Hart that morning, but, did not dare. While she studied over the trouble which she felt sure was making wrinkles in this beautiful mother's face, and wondered if there wasn't something she could do to help her, the tent curtains parted slightly and a familiar face looked in.