They ranged in all varieties, from a bearlike hug and smack to Gran, to a courteous caress to Alayne, a perfunctory offering of his olive cheek to his brothers, except Finch, to whom he administered a punch in the stomach which was returned by a sly but wicked dig in the short rib.
The Whiteoaks had a vocation for kissing. Alayne thought of that as she watched the youngest Whiteoak saluting the family. They kissed upon the slightest provocation. Indeed, the grandmother would frequently, on awakening from a doze, cry out pathetically:—
"Kiss me, somebody, quick!"
Ah, perhaps Renny had regarded the kissing of her in the orchard as a light thing!
A sudden impulse drew her to him where he stood before the cabinet of curios, a little ivory ape in his hand.
"I want to speak to you about Finch," she said, steadily.
The light was dim in that corner. Renny scanned her face furtively.
"Yes?"
"I like him very much. He is an unusual boy. And he is at a difficult age. There is something I should like you to do for him."
He regarded her suspiciously. What was the girl up to?
"Yes?" His tone was mildly questioning.
"I want you to give him music lessons. Music would be splendid for him. He is a very interesting boy, and he needs some outlet besides geometry and things like that. I am sure you will not be sorry if you do it. Finch is worth taking a great deal of trouble for."
He looked genuinely surprised.
"Really? I always thought him rather a dull young whelp. And no good at athletics, either. That would
