“I wonder if that trip to New York was good for her?” Arethusa wondered mildly.
Joshua flicked Billy with the whip and refused to voice any opinion as to New York’s effect on his mistress.
Arethusa was well on her way to Boston when Aunt Mary’s bell, rung with a sharp jangle, summoned Lucinda to open her bedroom blinds. While Lucinda was leaning far out and attempting to cause said blinds to catch on the hooks, which habitually held them back against the side of the house, her mistress addressed her with a suddeness which showed that she had awakened with her wits surprisingly well in hand.
“Where’s Joshua? Is he got back from Arethusa? Answer me, Lucinda.”
Lucinda drew herself in through the open window with an alacrity remarkable for one of her years.
“Yes, he’s back,” she yelled.
Aunt Mary looked at her with a sort of incensed patience.
“Well, what’s he doin’? If he’s back, where is he? Lucinda, if you knew how hard it is for me to keep quiet you’d answer when I asked things. Why in Heaven’s name don’t you say suthin’? Anythin’? Anythin’ but nothin’, that is.”
“He’s mowin’,” Lucinda shrieked.
“Sewin’!” exclaimed Aunt Mary. “What’s he sewin’? Where’s he sewin’? Have you stopped doin’ his darnin’?”