"Suppose you try again," said Dr. Barnett with unprofessional haste to test an injured member. "Take my arm, and let's see if you cannot walk a step or two."
Bea did so, with a shy blush, and stood up; then after a moment, took a few steps, with the color coming and going in her cheeks, for more reasons than one; and, though it was very pleasant to feel her clinging to his arm in that helpless way, Dr. Barnett made her sit down; but passed his opinion that she could go to the picnic.
"Do you really think so?" said Bea, with delighted eagerness.
"I do, if you will be content to sit in the carriage all day," he answered, looking down at her, as though he thought a much swollen nose and highly colored eyes were the most adorable sights; and Bea looked up at him, then blushed, without any reason whatever, whereupon Mrs. Dering made some hasty remark about the desirable weather for picnics, and the doctor decided, all of a sudden, that he must go, which he accordingly did.
What a glorious hub-bub a picnic morning is, especially when there are several in one home interested in its perfect success. Neither of the girls slept much. Bea couldn't have told what kept her awake, but somehow, her eyes would remain open, and she was dimly conscious, of smiling several times in the dark, and feeling very happy. Once she came very near humming out a little air, that seemed to be singing itself over and over in her heart, but she suppressed the desire, out of consideration for others, who were less blissfully affected. Kittie declared that there was no use trying to sleep, because Kat kept getting up every few minutes, to look out and see if it was going to rain; and Kat, in turn, said that Kittie had sat up all night, because her crimping papers hurt her so she couldn't lie down. At just four o'clock everybody was fully awakened, by the twins clattering down stairs with a great racket, and getting breakfast under headway, and Mrs. Dering, awakened from her morning nap, consoled herself with a fervent—"Bless the children, I'm glad this doesn't happen often."
"It's going to rain," cried Kat, with a despairing wail. "See that cloud?"
"Stuff!" echoed Kittie. "It isn't as big as a door-knob." But nevertheless, they both let breakfast burn, while running every few moments to see if it was swelling any bigger, and were fully rewarded by seeing it dwindle and sail away over the barn before six o'clock.
No, it didn't rain, and before the sun was through his earliest infancy, they were all ready, and Dr. Barnett's phaeton stood at the gate, with Miss Lottie in a pretty picnic suit; and her brother deeply absorbed in the pleasing task of getting Bea down to the gate without hurting her ankle. Ralph officiated on one side of the interesting cripple, and took a wicked satisfaction in doing the greatest share of the supporting; but then the doctor was reasonable, and was as happy as possible with what fell to his share; and Bea,—well, Bea was perfectly content.
They drove off with an accompanying shout from those left behind, and a few moments later, Ralph and the twins departed on foot to meet the carriages that were all to assemble at a certain place.
Quite a little flutter of admiration went round as this trio came up, for Ralph was a very handsome centre piece, and the twins in their very becoming costumes and wide-awake hats, cocked up at one side after the prevailing fashion, made pictures of great attractiveness on each side. Everybody was there, and everybody was laughing and talking merrily, and everybody had a word of greeting for the new arrivals. Of all the old school-girls from Miss Howard's, Kittie and Kat were the only two who did not make pretensions towards young ladyhood; and just now, there was something so girlish and sweet about them, in their fresh calico suits, and bright young faces under the big hats, that one or two strangers asked who they were, all the elder people smiled approval, while the young ones, with an eye on the handsome cousin, nodded sweetly, and were quite attentive.