“When it’s your day’s work to take a long walk across the mountain in the hot sun, what keeps you from getting tired?”
“I sing,” answered Phoebe, and settled back in the seat between Elinor and Ben, her brown hands folded loosely in her lap.
The ride over to meet the new maid was intended to be something in the nature of a picnic, and they had made an early start in order to eat lunch in the woods after the first stage of the journey. And now, as the sun crept up toward the meridian, their appetites began to clamor for food. About that time, too, they came near to the road which led to the Antlers, where Phoebe hoped to sell some of her baskets. She lifted the big basket into her lap and touched Billie on the shoulder as a dumb signal to stop.
“But we are not going to let you go, Phoebe,” exclaimed Billie. “You must lunch with us in the woods. Then we’ll have time I think to drop you at the Antlers and stop for you again on the way back.”
“I do not see why Miss Phoebe needs to visit the inn at all,” put in Dr. Hume. “I wanted to get presents for my nieces and nephews. I will buy the basketful and that will save me no end of trouble searching for things in the village.”
Phoebe thoughtfully considered these generous and hospitable propositions before she replied with great seriousness of tone and manner:
“Thank you, but it is too much; I cannot accept. It is too much.”
“But it is not, Phoebe,” protested Billie. “We want you. We like to have you with us.”
“And I want the baskets, too,” went on the doctor. “It will save me a hot, stupid journey to the village.”
Phoebe looked from one to the other. Her pride was struggling with her yearning to be with these new and wonderful friends.