"Jenny, there is a cart, and I believe it is going to Newfold," she said, with a sudden hopefulness. "Perhaps it is someone we know—one of the tradespeople. If so, we will ask them to give us a lift."
"They won't wait to be asked, Miss Lucy," said Jenny, shrewdly, and indeed truthfully, for the two school-teachers were already favorites in Newfold.
"Here it is now," said Lucy; then she sighed disappointedly. "It is a dog cart—a gentleman's dog-cart," she said. "Bother!"
It came abreast of them and was spinning past, when suddenly the gentleman who was driving seemed to see them, and after a moment's hesitation he pulled up the horse.
"You mustn't stand under that tree," he called out.
Lucy colored and started for two reasons; one, because she had been brought up in habits of obedience, and generally did what she was told, no matter who told her, and especially if the order was issued in a commanding voice, and this was a commanding voice. The other reason was that she recognized the voice itself. It was the gentleman she had met in the lane, and to whom she had given the fern root.
"Come away," he said, gravely; then he appeared to recognise her, for he jumped down and, still holding the reins, came forward and raised his hat, Jenny laughing to see the rain pour off the brim.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I did not see who it was for a moment, the rain is pelting so. But all the same you really must not stand there. There is thunder in the air, and it is dangerous standing under a tree—lightning you know!"
Lucy uttered a little cry, then laughed and blushed.
"Of course. How foolish of me not to think of it! But when you called out I was afraid I was doing some injury to the tree by trespassing."