“Me, too,” chimed in Tom. “It’s corking.”
Laura clapped her hands. “Listen, Elliott, listen! Could praise go further?”
But Mother Jess, when they rose from the table, slipped an arm through Elliott’s and drew her toward the veranda. “Did the cook lose her appetite getting dinner, little girl?”
“Oh, no, indeed, Aunt Jessica! Getting dinner didn’t tire me a bit. I just 209 loved it. I—I didn’t seem to feel hungry this noon, that was all.”
Mother Jess patted her arm. “Well, run away now, dear. You are not to give a thought to the dishes. We will see to them.”
At that minute Elliott almost told her about the letter in her pocket, that lay like a lump of lead on her heart. But Henry appeared just then in the doorway and the moment passed.
“Run away, dear,” repeated Aunt Jessica, and gave the girl a little push and another little pat. “Run away and get rested.”
Slowly Elliott went down the steps and along the path that led to the flower borders and the apple trees. She wasn’t really conscious of the way she was going; her feet took charge of her and carried her body along while her mind was busy. When she came out among a few big trees 210 with a welter of piled-up crests on every side, she was really astonished.
“Why!” she cried; “why, here I am on the top of the hill!”
A low, flat rock invited her and she sat down. It was queer how different everything seemed up here. What looked large from below had dwindled amazingly. It took, she decided, a pretty big thing to look big on a hilltop.