“It’s only a headache, Cousin Helen.”
There was sincere relief in Helen’s voice as she replied, “I am so glad that it is nothing worse.”
Virginia and her Aunt climbed into the back seat of the conveyance.
“Hush,” cried Helen in a loud whisper. “Archimedes is asleep. It’s a shame to disturb him. I haven’t the heart to hit him,” she giggled.
“Be careful and don’t strike that horse cruelly, Helen,” Aunt Kate warned her daughter, as if that maiden were habitually guilty of cruelty to animals.
Helen disregarded her mother’s remark. “Archimedes is dreaming of corn and oats and hay and green pastures. He must dream of such things, as he never thinks of anything else,” she laughed.
“Stop your nonsense, Helen. I have a sick girl here who should be in bed.”
“I’m better already,” protested Virginia.
“Get up, Arch,” cried Helen.
Archimedes stood fast.