“Say anything, Blue Bonnet?”
“About—last night?”
“Haven’t you and your grandmother talked things over, Blue Bonnet?”
“Yes,” Blue Bonnet answered, “but Grandmother was just—dear, and I thought—I don’t mean that you’re not—” Blue Bonnet colored, “only it does seem as if someone ought to—scold me. It was so horrid of me.”
Miss Lucinda half smiled. “And you consider that my especial prerogative? No, Blue Bonnet, I am not going to ‘say anything,’ as you express it, to you. I am going to ask that another time you will give a little thought to the worry and anxiety your heedlessness is likely to cause other people. I do not think you realize how troubled your grandmother was last evening.”
“Oh, I will try,” Blue Bonnet’s voice trembled. “I will, I truly will, Aunt Lucinda!”
“Solomon,” she confided to him later, as they two were alone in the firelight, “Solomon, Aunt Lucinda can be such a dear!”
CHAPTER XVI
LADIES’ DAY
The storm was followed by the thaw; a very thorough-going thaw, which gave Blue Bonnet her first experience of what country roads can be like under such conditions.