Mammy’s discourse was interrupted by music as delightful to the eager ears of Drusilla as the sublimest strains of Handel—the rumbling of the stage-coach as it rolled out of the stable yard, and whirled around the corner and drew up before the office door.
Drusilla was on her feet in an instant.
“Now don’t be in such a hurry, ma’am. You be quiet. Bless you, it will be some time yet before it starts. They’ve got all the luggidge to put up yet. Leo, he’ll call us when it’s time to get in.”
With a sigh Drusilla dropped into her seat. Moments seemed hours, and hours months to her, until she could reach old Lyon Hall and prevent the consummation of her Alick’s meditated crime.
At length the long wished for signal came. Leo looked into the room, touched his hat, and said:
“Coach ready, ma’am.”
Drusilla arose in haste and excitement.
Leo loaded himself with the light luggage.
Mammy drew her big blanket shawl about her, and so they went out of the office.
“Leo, my good boy, take great care of yourself and your sister, and of the house and the animals, while I am gone,” said the lady.