The packing of the trunk was a task which fell to Lucinda's lot and was
performed under the eagle eye of her mistress. Aunt Mary's ideas of what
she would require were delightfully unsophisticated and brought up short
on the farther-side of her tooth brush and her rubbers. Nevertheless she
agreed in Lucinda's suggestions as to more extensive supplies.
Late that afternoon Joshua drove into town (amidst a wealth of mud
spatters) and dispatched the answer to Jack's letter. Aunt Mary was urged
to haste by several considerations, some well defined, and others not so
much so. To Lucinda she imparted her terrible anxiety over the dear boy's
health, but not even to herself did she admit her much more terrible
anxiety lest Arethusa or Mary should suddenly appear and insist on
accompanying her. She wanted to go, but she wanted to go alone.
Jack telegraphed a response that night, and his aunt left by the Monday
morning train. She had a six o'clock breakfast, and drove into town at a
quarter of nine so as to be absolutely certain not to miss the train.
Joshua drove, with the trunk perched beside him. It was a small and
unassuming trunk, but Aunt Mary was not one who believed in putting on
airs just because she was rich. Lucinda sat on the back seat with her
mistress.
"I'm sure I hope you'll enjoy yourself," she said.
"Of course he's nothing but a boy," Aunt Mary replied,--"an' I've told you
a hundred times that boys will be boys and we mustn't expect otherwise.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108