Preparations for the "big dinner" to which all the Maises had been invited and to which, knowing the good treat which was in store, they had been eagerly looking forward, were about complete. This dinner was to be held at Miss Hetty's home, as a birthday celebration in honor of the "clan leader," as the minister's son had designated that worthy man. Jeoffrey Maise was the twin brother of the deceased owner of the famous pig and it was he who had always maintained the bloodless but bitter feud with the greatest fervor. It was always his eloquence and burning hatred that rekindled the flame when the blaze of enmity showed any signs of abating.

He had now reached his sixty-fifth year and to do him honor Aunt Hetty assisted by a bevy of rosy-cheeked nieces and cousins, had brewed and baked and stewed one hot morning in late August. Altogether eight families of Maises, arrayed in their best, sallied out to the white-gabled home of their spinster relative. Not only were they prompted to attend because of the prospect of revelling in the contents of Miss Hetty's famous kitchen, but they would also have the opportunity of meeting the "circus children."

Pearl and Periwinkle had up to this time met only a few of their mother's relatives, but on this day they submitted to a deluge of kisses, questions, stares, and advances that wellnigh overwhelmed them, but which they nevertheless met with commendable equanimity. On the whole their aunts and great-aunts, uncles and great-uncles, cousins and near-cousins were better pleased with the children than perhaps the children were with them. The common agreement was that Myra's boy and girl were exceptionally pretty, bright, and not at all ill-mannered; although they perhaps lacked the shyness of their village cousins.

When dinner at last was over, the big living room became the scene of an important family council. A vivacious girl of sixteen clad in a smart white linen frock with shoes to match, took her young cousins in charge, expecting to entertain them, while their elders were engaged in a discussion that would in no way likely be of interest to young minds. She informed them that she was the only child of Eldon Maise and how she spent her winters in a fashionable boarding school, only coming to the country in summer to spend her vacation. Eldon Maise, as Peri knew, was the rich man of the "clan." But the lively prattle of his sister and their dainty cousin on topics of interests common only to girls, bored him and he soon found himself becoming interested in the conversation of his elders.

"You say Jim Grey's son-in-law is running for postmaster?" the guest of honor was asking.

"So I hear," replied his nephew Eldon in his cold, quiet way.

"You don't intend to sign his petition, Eldon?" demanded the old man, his suspicion aroused by the matter-of-fact answer of his nephew.

"Oh, business is business, Uncle," retorted the younger man, rather abruptly. "I can't afford to provoke the illwill of the Greys. If Holner comes to me, I dare say I shall sign his paper."

"And you a son of your father!" cried Jeoffrey Maise, much aroused by this apparent defection from a family duty. "You to go back on us and help the other side!"

"Oh, Uncle," replied his broader-minded nephew in an even tone, "that little thing occurred so long ago. We aren't living in the Kentucky hills, you know. Family feuds are not in fashion in this state. I'm sure I don't care much if you want to keep up the old grudge, but I don't want it to interfere with my business. It's been damaging enough already."

An older brother of Hetty and Eldon drew his pipe slowly from his mouth and looked impressively upon the company. Jim Maise had never received the "larnin" of which the younger members of the family boasted, but he had what he himself fondly called "hoss sense." At any rate he was always listened to attentively as befitted an eldest son.

"Wall," he drawled, "I reckon this here post-office affair don't come too late for us to get even with some of the things the Greys have done to us. Only it don't strike near enough home. Holner ain't nothing but a son-in-law of the old man's half-brother. Now if we could strike a blow to Robert Grey, or his sister Kitty and her family, it would be something like. Nothin' real bad but just humblin'-like."

Periwinkle's heart beat faster at the mention of Robert Grey in this connection and Hetty stirred nervously in her chair. She had it in her power, as they all knew, to humiliate Kitty Farwell and incidentally Kitty's brother, Robert Grey. Hetty had not forgotten that Kitty was quite influential in causing the final "break" between herself and Robert. When she spoke her voice sounded strange and hard.

"The mortgage on Mrs. Farwell's place is due in October," she suggested rather hesitatingly.

"I was coming to that, Hetty," cried Jeoffrey eagerly. "Who holds the mortgage now that Myra is gone. It always seemed to me to be mighty generous of your ma, to will all her property to Myra when your pa disinherited her."

"I hold it," replied Miss Hetty tersely, "as legal guardian of Myra's children and heirs."

"Kitty cannot pay it?" questioned her brother Eldon quietly.

He and Mrs. Farwell had been playmates and youthful sweethearts.

"Hardly," replied his sister with a grim smile. "Kitty is scarcely worth the eight hundred it demands. Since that shiftless husband of hers died, she has all she can do to make ends meet and keep her three children together."

At this heartless reply a smile of ill-disguised contempt might have been detected on the face of at least one of the men present. But as he was only a "poor relation" dependent for his very means of livelihood upon the generosity of Jeoffrey and Eldon Maise he wisely remained silent.

"Won't Robert interfere?" urged one of the women. "He'll surely help his sister."

The leader of the clan laughed shortly.

"What's Robert got," he demanded, "that ain't tied up so tight it won't do him any good now? Of course the Greys will pretend to come to Kitty's aid, if Hetty closes up on her. But it will be humiliating enough to all of them even if they do pay the money. You see it isn't generally known that there is a mortgage on the Farwell place."

"I'm not so sure that they can pay it," interrupted Eldon in that cold tone that was like a mask, hiding perhaps a warm depth of feeling; or perhaps it was only the expression as cool as the iciness of his spoken thoughts. "I happen to know of an account against Elbert Grey that will cripple that branch of the family for the time being. Ashur could no more turn over the money than could Robert, and Lisbeth is so tied up that he is out of the question. As a matter of fact the Greys would be up against it."

"Have you warned Kitty?" asked Jeoffrey Maise, turning to Miss Hetty.

"Not yet. But I shall warn her, and give her as much time—as the law allows."

"Good for you!"

"Hetty!" Eldon's voice held a note of cold reproach. "You—a woman—would you try to ruin a widow and three helpless orphans?"

"There you go again," passionately declared his sister, feeling the force of his argument, yet anxiously seeking to justify her position. "You claim to be a man of business, and yet you would condemn me for taking what is lawfully mine. Please remember, Eldon, that I am doing it for the sake of our departed sister's children. Aren't they orphans themselves? Won't they need the money as much as those Farwell young ones do? Pearl's voice is little short of remarkable, but it takes money to train it. Peri must go to college some day, you all agree. Very well. But some one must pay the expenses. They shall have it too, in spite of you, Eldon. I'll warrant you wouldn't do less for your Alois."

Throughout this conversation Periwinkle had remained silent, though his interest and bewilderment increased every moment. At Miss Hetty's words a look of understanding displaced his puzzled frown. Springing to his feet, he unhesitatingly addressed the astonished company in such a respectful yet determined manner that his presumption could not but be pardoned.

"Aunt Hetty," he demanded, "did you say that thing that you called a mortgage belonged to Pearl and me?"

"Yes," replied his aunt shortly, "and I as your legal guardian, may do with it as I see fit."

"That is a strange law," replied her questioner. "But I tell you, Aunt Hetty, I won't have any of the money you take from those poor people, nor will Pearl. I'd rather be a beggar. And I know I'd feel worse than a beggar, if we took her place from her. Oh, how can you, how dare you work against Mr. Grey when he is so good? Hasn't Joe Smith's father ever told you to love your enemies?"

"Periwinkle," protested his aunt weakly. For the first time in her life she felt utterly helpless and incapable of reply.

"Periwinkle Toddles!" she repeated, but she could not meet the look in his reproachful grey eyes. His great-uncle Jeoffrey recovering first from the shock finally came to her aid.

"Boy," he thundered. "What do you know of this? In my day children didn't speak until they were told to do so. The young rascal needs a sound thrashing, Hetty."

But Miss Hetty had been so affected by the childish rebuke that she could not find it in her heart to be angry with her nephew.

"Think how the child was raised, Uncle," she pleaded.

"Peri, didn't the—the Fat Woman ever tell you to respect your elders?"

"Yes, Aunt Hetty, I think so," the boy replied, surprised at unexpected softness of her tone. "Least ways she told us to respect everybody that was worthy of it. She was a very brilliant woman," he added, turning to his Uncle Eldon with a rare smile. And then for a moment the mask that hid the soul of that man was lifted, for he replied with a sudden and unusual warmth: "At any rate she deserves credit for training a boy, whom I would be glad to call my son."

It was too much for Periwinkle. Tears suddenly filled his eyes. He wanted to thank his good, kind uncle but he could not let them see him in tears. Turning his back abruptly on the company and starting for the door, he said in muffled tones:

"I must find sister—But, Aunt Hetty, if it's for her and me you want to take that money from Mrs. Farwell, please, please don't. We'd much rather not and—" he stopped at the door and turned about for his final thrust, "don't you think that Jesus would much rather you wouldn't?"

He was gone and silence reigned for a time. It was Jeoffrey, as usual, who broke it.

"Perhaps, Hetty, we had better not be too hasty with that mortgage," he said as if almost ashamed to express any feeling of charity toward the Greys.

"I've already decided that," was her curt reply.

Eldon looked at his sister in approval and the "poor relative" in the corner was so pleased that, forgetting for once to be cautious, he burst forth in a hearty "hurrah."