“But why does not Herbert come in at once?”
He had gone behind the coach, and the driver was helping him take down a trunk.
“Where did he get it?” thought his mother, in surprise.
“I guess you can get it into the house yourself,” she heard the driver say.
“Yes, I'll manage it; you needn't wait,” said Herbert.
The driver cracked his whip, and the lumbering old coach drove on.
“Oh, there you are, mother,” said Herbert, looking toward the house for the first time. “I'll be with you in a minute.”
And he began to draw the trunk in through the front gate.
“Where did you get that trunk, Herbert?” asked Mrs. Carter.
“Oh, it's my legacy,” said Herbert, laughing. “Here it is,” and he lifted it up, and laid it down in the front entry.