"People are waiting till the weather becomes more spring-like," I said. "It is a pity that it continues so cold, and Easter falling next week."
"Yes," said Aunt Patty with a sigh. "I am afraid I have been in too great a hurry. It would have been better to have waited a few weeks before advertising."
The past week had been a trying time for Aunt Patty. Certain business transactions had taken place. The greater part of the land which had belonged to Uncle George, and his father before him, was now the property of Squire Canfield. He had also purchased a good deal of the farm stock, and the rest had been sold by auction at Chelmsford. I hardly realised all that this meant to Aunt Patty. It did not seem to me to make much difference to her, since the house and garden and the grounds immediately adjoining still belonged to her. But I knew she had felt it deeply, and now, as I saw her troubled air, I tried to comfort her.
"It seems rather warmer this morning," I said. "I believe the weather is going to change. We shall have some applications soon, auntie, I feel sure. Would you like me to go into Chelmsford this afternoon, and inquire at the post-office?"
We had only one postal delivery a day at "Gay Bowers," so if we went into town we never failed to visit the post-office, that we might obtain any letters that might have arrived by a later post.
"I am afraid it would only be another disappointment," said Aunt Patty, "and it is hardly worth while to have the horse and trap out for that."
"How I wish I had a bicycle!" I said. "Now that the winds have dried the roads, I could spin into Chelmsford and back in no time."
"Then you can ride?" aunt said.
"Oh, yes; Olive taught me, and she often lends me her bicycle—she is very good-natured about it. You know Mrs. Smythe gave her one because she thought she did not take sufficient exercise."
"I wish I could give you one, my dear," said Aunt Patty gently.