"Grandmother Sanford's wedding," Flossy said to herself, and dreamed over the notice until the service ended.
"Mercy!" she remarked to the horse, looking at her watch as she drove out of Samoset: "how late it is! Do get along faster. What will Ease and Will think has become of me? Get up! Mercy, who's that?"
It was the stalwart form of Burleigh Blood she saw, walking along the grassy edge of the road. He turned his head as she approached, lifting his hat, and blushing diffidently.
"How do you do?" she said, drawing rein beside him. "Will you ride?"
"Thank you," he answered confusedly, "I—I think not."
"Very well," she returned, "get in then."
He laughed and obeyed her, as if he had given the acceptance her words assumed.
"Where have you been?" Flossy asked as they drove on. "How in the world do you happen to be straying about so on Sunday? Have you been to church?"
"Yes: I rode over this morning, and staid all day."