“Suppose you direct the envelopes now, Elizabeth.”
Blue Bonnet bit her lips; she was not used to having her remarks set aside in this fashion.
When the last envelope had been added to the little pile, lying on the desk before her, she drew a deep breath of relief. “I think I’ll take Solomon for a run,” she said.
“Have you done your practising yet, Elizabeth?” her aunt asked.
“No, Aunt Lucinda.”
“Then you would better go to it now; by the time you are through I shall be at liberty to go over your Latin with you.”
“If you please, Aunt Lucinda, I’d so much rather go over the fields with Solomon, instead.”
“Elizabeth!”
And Blue Bonnet, as she went across the hall to the dim back parlor, felt that Aunt Lucinda thought she had meant to be impertinent. “When it was just the straight truth,” the girl said. As she went to throw open the blinds, the riot of color in the garden beyond caught and held her. It would be easier practising with a great bunch of fragrant nasturtiums beside her.
But the nasturtiums took a long time to gather, particularly as Solomon, finding her there, kept making little rushes among the flower-beds—which were strictly forbidden ground. Solomon was getting more in evidence every day. Blue Bonnet had secret visions of the time when he should even be tolerated in the house. “The stable, indeed!” she said now. “You’re not going to stay that kind of a dog, are you, sir?”