“So you see why I can’t go with you to Farmdale, as I was going to. But I’ll tell you how I’ve planned it. I’ve agreed with the landlady for you to stay here all night, and there’s a stage runs to Farmdale to-morrow that you can go over in. The worst of it is I don’t know the nice old lady’s name or where she lives, for she wasn’t in her own home when I saw her. But they called her ‘aunt’ at the place she was, so they will be sure to know all about her, and I can tell you just where that is. The village is built around the prettiest green you ever saw. You go up on the west side till you come to a story-and-half white house with green blinds, and big lilac bushes at the gate; there’s a sign over the front door, ‘Millinery, and Dressmaking,’ so you can’t miss the place.
“There were two ladies there, not young or really old, but sort o’ between like, you know. They were nice, too. Why, what do you think one of them did? I had torn my coat on the wagon and she mended it for me. Wasn’t that good? And I know they’ll be good to you. Just tell them I sent you, and as soon as I come back I’ll come and see how you are getting along. I’m awful sorry things have happened this way, but I don’t see what else I can do.”
Ben had talked very fast, and as Posey listened she was conscious that a lump was rising higher and higher in her throat. “It’s all right, Ben,” Posey tried to speak with forced cheerfulness. “Only it seems as though I’d known you always, and I don’t quite know what to do without you,” and with all her effort her voice trailed off in a quiver.
“Why, that’s so,” Ben’s tone was emphatic. “It does seem as though we had always known each other, don’t it?”
“And you’ve been so good to me,” Posey continued. “I shall never forget it, Ben, never! This has been the happiest day I ever knew.”
“Shucks!” exclaimed Ben, his own voice a trifle husky. “I haven’t done anything but let you ride on the tin-cart; that wasn’t much, I’m sure. Besides I’ve enjoyed it as much as you have.”
“Oh, but you have been good to me,” she repeated. “You came to me when I hadn’t anybody in the whole world, and I was feeling so badly that I almost wanted to die. Except my mamma nobody in all my life was ever so good to me, not even dear Mr. Hagood, and I shall remember it always.”
“I wish I could have done more for you; and here—” slipping a couple of silver dollars into her hand—“is a little money for your stage fare, and anything else you may need. I’ve settled with the landlady for your staying here to-night.”
“I sha’n’t take it, Ben,” Posey protested, as she tried to force the money back. “You’ve paid for my dinner, and now for to-night, and you have to work hard for your money. I sha’n’t take it, indeed I sha’n’t. I can walk to Farmdale to-morrow as well as not.”
“Shucks!” retorted Ben more emphatically than before. “You won’t do anything of the kind. Besides I’m going to adopt you for my sister, and brothers ought to take care of their sisters. When I get a raise in my salary I’ll send you to a fashionable boarding school. But I must be off, only I feel dreadfully to leave you so.”