Mrs. Lake's farm was at the end of a lane all stones and ruts, and it was well known in the family that nothing hurt Felix so much as a jolt.
'No! no! You can't think of it,' cried Angela.
'I shall walk over the worst places,' he said.
'And that's the whole! Felix, pray don't!'
'I must, unless you will submit otherwise.'
'That's taking an unfair advantage,' she said, with tears of anger in her eyes. 'You know it is leaving me no choice.'
'Thank you. That is very kind. You had better take that pen and paper and write to Mrs. Lake.'
'You know your power,' she said, petulantly. 'If you were well, I would try it to the uttermost!'
With a fraction of a smile he said, 'We will talk it over when your note is written, but it is hard to let poor Mrs. Lake butter her muffins all the afternoon in vain.'
This view of preparations for a tea-party made Angela smile a little also, and that did her good. She sat down at the table, and hastily wrote—