“I’m going on up to the post-office with Josh,” said Christopher as his grandmother and Jane descended. “I’ll be back before you get started on the party.”
“You will have to walk back, Kit,” replied his grandmother. “Joshua is going to have the horses shod.”
“Oh, I don’t mind a little walk like that,” answered Christopher loftily. “Besides, if Bill’s there he’ll probably give me a lift back on the step of his bicycle.”
Christopher thought it likely that Billy Carpenter was at the post-office helping his father with the letters, and that by going on there he would not only see his chum but would miss all the “how do you do’s” and small talk at Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s, arriving in time for the real pleasure of the occasion—the tea-party.
Jane stood still a moment at the gate and watched the carriage drive off a bit regretfully. She knew that Christopher wanted to see Billy Carpenter and she felt a little forlorn.
“We won’t have the party until you get back, Kit,” she called after him. Then she turned to her grandmother, her lip quivering a little. “Do you suppose Kit likes that Carpenter boy better than me, grandmother?”
“Of course not, Janey, dear, but—boys will be boys, you know, and girls girls.”
“But Kit didn’t use to care for boys.”
“Well, he’s getting older,” replied grandmother vaguely.
Mrs. Hartwell-Jones must have been expecting company, for little Anna Parsons ran out of the front door to meet them, and led them around the corner of the house, where a wide, shady expanse of velvety lawn invited rest. Mrs. Hartwell-Jones sat in an easy chair placed on a rug, and other chairs were grouped nearby, while the sight of a low, white-covered table would have done Christopher’s heart good, it was so loaded down with goodies.