“Why, of course I will,” said Sue, and after a moment's hesitating, Nancy ran over to the cottage, wrote a hasty note, which she left upon the table, and then, with her heart beating fast, and her lashes still wet with tears, she walked swiftly down the avenue with Sue.
Sue was delighted to be with Nancy again, and she had no idea that she was doing anything which could possibly cause Nancy's friends any uneasiness.
She had intended to call at the house, and ask permission to take Nancy to her aunt.
Having met Nancy at the gate, she had learned that there was no one at home, but she had urged Nancy to leave a note at the cottage telling where she had gone, and with whom, and she felt that that made the whole affair open and honest. Nancy's loving little heart was less light. She thought that it must be right to go with Sue, and if her aunt was so very sick, why surely she ought not to delay going to her, but if only dear Aunt Charlotte had been at home she could have asked her; could have just asked her.
Sue talked all the way, but Nancy said little, and when they had nearly reached the depot she looked back, and as she looked, wondered if, even then, she ought to run back to the cottage. Then the thought of her aunt calling constantly for her caused her once more to think that it must be right for her to go.
There were not many minutes in which to think about it, for when Sue had bought their tickets, the whistle of a locomotive was heard coming around a bend of the road, and almost before Nancy knew it they were seated in the car, and spinning over the rails towards the little town where her aunt was now living.
It was all like a dream. She saw the tall trees, the broad fields now brown, yet bare of snow, because the warm sun had melted it, the church spires of other villages standing out clearly against the blue sky, but they blurred and became indistinct, because she could not keep back the tears. She was not really crying, but as fast as the tears were forced back, others would come, and she turned from the window to hear what Sue was saying.
“I say it's only three stations more, an' then we'll be there, an' when ye see how much good it'll do yer aunt, ye'll be glad ye come,” she said.
Nancy's eyes brightened. If it was to do so much good, then she had done right. It must be that she really ought to be on her way towards the little house, and Sue had promised to return with her.
And now the train, which had been flying along, slackened its speed, and a frowzy-haired brakeman thrust his head into the car doorway, shouting something, Nancy could not tell what.