“There they come around the bend!” she exclaimed, and shortly a carryall driven by Jim Dutton, and containing three ladies and two children, followed by a buck-board wherein sat Miss Fanny and Miss Dora, drew up at the gate.
Evaline's shyness came on in full force and she hung back, but Marty, with Freddie holding her hand, proceeded down the walk. They were met by Miss Fanny, who had thrown the reins to her friend and jumped out the moment the horse stopped. She kissed Marty, snatched up Freddie, exclaiming, “What a darling little boy!” and called out, “Come down here, Evaline! I want to see you.”
Mrs. Stokes, who was too hospitable to see people so near her house without inviting them in, now came forward to give the invitation, and as they were obliged to decline on the score of lateness, she called Almira to bring some cool spring water for them. Seeing Freddie approaching dangerously near one of the horses, Marty cried, “Freddie, Freddie, come away from the horse!” and he gravely inquired, “What's the matter with the poor old horse?”
This made every one laugh and brought Mrs. Ashford from the porch to take his hand and keep him out of danger. So they were all assembled at the roadside, and quite a pleasant, lively time they had.
The flowers were asked for and Evaline brought them, while Marty explained why they were garden instead of wild flowers, and Mrs. Stokes told how the girls earned them. The bouquets were extremely admired. When proposing the plan in the woods, Miss Fanny had suggested “ten-cent” bouquets, but everybody said ten cents was entirely too cheap for such large, beautifully arranged ones, that fifteen cents was little enough. There was one composed entirely of sweet peas, as Mrs. Ashford said those delicate flowers looked prettier by themselves. This Miss Fanny seized upon, insisted on paying twenty cents for, and presented to a pale, sweet-faced lady in mourning.
She drew Marty to the side of the carriage where this lady was, and said in a low voice,
“Mrs. Thurston, this is the little girl I told you of—the Missionary Twig who doesn't leave her missionary zeal at home when she goes away in vacation.”
The lady smiled affectionately as she pressed Marty's hand, and said,
“I am glad to meet such an earnest little comrade.”
“Oh! but you don't know,” protested Marty. “I came very near forgetting the whole thing. Indeed, it went out of my head altogether from Tuesday till Sunday.”