“Almost any day now, my love,” her aunt answered, “but I sha’n’t go without seeing you-all once more.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that,” Harriot answered frankly, though without the slightest intention of being rude. “I was just wondering who would get the peaches. You know, Dee,” she went on, turning to Dorothea, “the Crosslands peaches are the best in the state.”
“My dear child,” Aunt Cora replied with gracious generosity, “you may have as many as you like when we are gone. Only I am afraid that the Yankees will take them all before you can get a chance at them.”
“Huh!” grunted Harriot, bristling. “If those peaches are mine, it’ll take a mighty smart Yankee to get them away from me. And besides, I can eat them greener than any upstart Northerner that ever was born. I’ve had practice.”
“They’re yours, honey, if we are away,” her aunt replied with a laugh. “Only don’t make yourself sick.”
“Nothing ever makes me sick,” Harriot replied proudly. “The more I eat the weller and weller I get.”
“I know,” sighed her aunt. “I’d give my small emerald ring for such a digestion as you have, Harriot. By the way, there’s a raspberry tart somewhere. You might just as well eat it up. It disagreed with me horribly.”
“I have!” Harriot replied with a triumphant grin, and they went down stairs after saying good-by.
“As sure as you’re born, Dee,” Harriot said as they started to get into the carriage, “Aunt Cora won’t go away now any more than she did the other times she started.”
“I don’t believe she will, either,” Dorothea agreed absently, for her mind was upon the matter that had brought her there so willingly. She wanted to go through the Coulter Woods alone and she was now alert to seize the first opportunity that offered to try her plan.