Just then there was a rush of hoofs, a shock of excitement, and they heard a loud yell:
“Go!”
And they rushed to the fence of the whitewashed palings.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE ROAD TO MINGO
Lavinia sat rocking quietly back and forth, and stitched away with her colored silks on her tambourine frames, while Marley told her of the fortune Wade Powell had brought them. He told the story briefly, and he tried to tell it simply; he did not comment on Powell’s kindness or generosity, but let his deeds speak for themselves in Powell’s behalf. When he had done, Marley waited for Lavinia’s comment, but she rocked on a moment and then held her tambourine frames at arm’s length to study the sweet pea she was making. When she had done so, she dropped her sewing suddenly into her lap, and looking up, said:
“He thinks everything of you, doesn’t he?”
“I believe he likes me,” Marley said, as modestly as he could put it.
“Who could help it?”
Lavinia looked at Marley, and he leaned over, and took her hands.
“I am glad you can’t, sweetheart,” he said.