“To put on my new hat. It’s a beautiful purple shade——”
“Purple!” gasped Janice, with a picture before her mental vision of Aunt ’Mira’s vast, ruddy face under such a colored plume.
“It’s a royal shade—so the girl said. Just like royalty wears,” said Aunt ’Mira in a hushed voice. “I expect them wimmen in ‘The Baron’s Heart Secret’ likely wore royal purple. And with that salmon-colored poplin you wouldn’t let me make up last spring, it’ll look striking.”
“I should say it would!” groaned Janice, foreseeing that she was going to have a hard time to keep her aunt from appearing in another ridiculous combination of colors.
Returning to Polktown, she was watchful all the way for the reappearance of the girl with the high-stepping horse and the road-cart, so she drove very slowly; and it was after five o’clock when they reached the highroad above Mr. Cross Moore’s creek, where the railroad bridge was to be built.
From a narrow cross road, running down to the shore, Janice and her aunt heard voices and laughter, and as Janice slowed down Marty appeared.
“Hello!” he shouted. “I vow if this ain’t luck. Hey! come along, Frank! We can git a ride to town.”
The car had passed the beginning of the cross road, but Janice heard the sound of a horse and wagon wheel out upon the main highway as it started upon the way to Middletown at a fast pace. Frank Bowman, the remainder of the instruments on his shoulder, appeared in a minute from the bushes.
“Why, Mrs. Day! And Miss Janice! Delighted, I am sure,” said the civil engineer. “Won’t we discommode you?” for Marty had already crowded in beside his mother and was reaching for the tripod Mr. Bowman carried.
“There is room,” laughed Janice. “You may sit beside me and see how well I have profited by your instructions.”