"Why not?" the latter asked; "wouldn't you like the walk?"
"Oh, I should like it very much," Lassie declared, her face flushing. It seemed to her very cruel that no such delightful plan had ever been broached before, when it was only just to-day that she wanted to stay at home. She looked at Ingram, and the wistful expression on his face was weighed in the balance against the thrill to come at the post-office when Mrs. Ray should read the Kinnecot paper. Such was the effect of the past week in Ledge upon a very human young girl.
"Why can't you come, too?" Ingram asked Alva.
Alva lifted her eyes to his, and in the same second Miss Lathbun at the other table lifted hers, and fixed them on the other's face.
"I can't this afternoon," she said, very stilly but decidedly; "I have something that keeps me here."
Lassie looked at her reproachfully. She was going to stay and hear Mrs. Ray! For the minute Lassie felt that she could not go herself.
"I think I'll stay with Alva," she said, suddenly.
"Lassie!" Alva exclaimed.
"Oh, come," urged Ingram; "it's such a grand day. You both ought to go. Come, do."
Alva shook her head. "I've a letter to write," she said; "I—" she stopped. There was a noise outside. It was Mr. O'Neil, driving up the hill towards the house! Mary Cody gave an exclamation in spite of herself, and darted into the kitchen. Mrs. Lathbun, who faced the window, said calmly: