Blue Bonnet sighed. “It would save a heap of trouble, Aunt Lucinda, if we would just take a day off, and go in town and buy everything I need ready-made.”
“Perhaps, but saving trouble is not the chief end of man, my dear.”
“More than of most women, I reckon,” Blue Bonnet answered.
Miss Lucinda let that pass; she had let more than one thing pass the last week. “Don’t be late getting back,” she warned, as Blue Bonnet turned away. “Remember, Mr. and Mrs. Blake are coming to tea.”
“I’ll be on time,” Blue Bonnet promised.
Sarah looked both pleased and doubtful when Blue Bonnet, drawing up before the parsonage gate, called to her to get her hat and come on; but with her mother downing objections as fast as they were raised, there was nothing for it but to yield.
They went out along the turnpike, striking as brisk a pace as Peter would consent to,—which was not so brisk as to cause Sarah any very serious tremors,—turning off after a while into a winding country lane that had a pleasant, aimless air about it. Peter disapproved of that lane; he had a chronic objection to getting muddy and uncomfortable. If that headstrong young person at the other end of the reins had but consulted him first, he could have told her what a country lane was like at this season of the year.
But if it was muddy underfoot, it was delightful overhead, with the soft wind driving the fleeciest of white clouds across the bluest of Spring skies, and reminding Blue Bonnet of ships at sea. Gradually her face lost its troubled look, as she leaned back in the phaeton, her hat off, the little curls blown back from her forehead. Sarah was not a bad companion on a drive like this; Kitty would have fussed about going so slowly, but, after all, poor old Peter was doing his best.
She and Sarah were both inclined to be rather silent; school and club-meetings were both subjects to be avoided. Carita Judson proved a safe topic, Blue Bonnet had had a letter from her the other day; there was always the ranch.
Suddenly, Sarah found herself wishing that Blue Bonnet were not going back to it in June, she should miss her very much. It was too bad this school trouble had come up; perhaps now, Blue Bonnet would not want to return in the fall.