When the carriage arrived—the big family carryall it was, with Joshua driving, grandmother was in it. She would not hear of Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s taking the long, jolty drive to the village. She was to come directly to Sunnycrest and there be nursed and cared for until her foot was well again. By the most wonderful good luck Dr. Greene had driven past the gate of Sunnycrest just as Jo Perkins delivered his message, had been hailed, brought back and was at that moment waiting to see the patient.
Joshua assisted Mrs. Hartwell-Jones carefully into the carriage, the children tucked themselves and the hamper in, and they drove rapidly away from the deserted lane, looking more mysterious than ever under the lengthening shadows of the afternoon sun; left it to the bees and the rabbits and—perhaps—to the fairies. Who knows?
[CHAPTER IV—GREEN APPLES]
“I have a piece of good news,” announced grandfather one afternoon a few days later, as he came up on the front veranda. He had driven into the village directly after the noon-day dinner and had just returned. “Where is your grandmother?”
Then he stopped short and eyed the children keenly. They were each sitting in a big chair, in attitudes too much doubled up for mere cozy comfort, and they were neither of them talking—a fact sufficient in itself to make one suspect that everything was not just as it should be. They sprang up with assumed spryness at sound of grandfather’s voice.
“What’s the news? Tell us!” cried Christopher.
“Yes, do, please,” echoed Jane.
Grandfather thought they looked pale.
“Where is your grandmother?” he repeated.
“She is sitting with Mrs. Hartwell-Jones. Mrs. Hartwell-Jones has a headache.”