"Well, we will send the redoubtable Mithridates back with his steeds, and send you on your journey in the little carriage, under the guardianship of old Jerome, with orders to remain with you during your visit; but to bring you back again, at farthest, on the third day," said Emma, peremptorily.
Laura thanked her friend, but protested against any trouble being taken on her account.
But Miss Cavendish was firm, and the arrangement was made according to her plan.
In the meantime Mithridates, eating beef and bread and drinking home-made sweet cider in the kitchen, recovered some of his composure; though still, with his mouth full of meat and his eyes starting from his head, he persisted that he had seen the spirit of his young mistress. And it was a token of his death.
"G'long way from her', boy! Ef I didn't know as you wasn't I should think as you was intoxified! There never was no sperrit never seen into this house," said Aunt Molly, indignantly.
"I don't care! I did see her sperrit! So there now," persisted Taters, bolting a chunk of bread and choking with it for a moment. "And—and it's a token of my death."
"Is that the reason you're a trying to kill yourself now, you iddiwut?"
"No; but I seen her sperrit!"
"I don't believe one word of it. You're a making of it all up out'n your own stoopid head! There, now, ef you're done eatin' you'd better go 'long and put up your hosses," said Aunt Moll, seeing her guest pause in his gastronomic efforts.
But Taters hadn't done eating, and did't get done until all the dishes on the kitchen table were cleared and the jug of cider emptied.