“Who can it be?” exclaimed several voices, but Janet tossed her head and smiled knowingly at Mrs. James. The latter placed a finger on her lips for secrecy, and Janet nodded.
Many guesses were given but no one thought of the right name, and Mrs. James refused to divulge the secret. Then so many interesting sights were seen, as they drove swiftly along the Boulevard that runs through the Bronx Parkway and northwards through the pretty country section of Westchester, that the old friend who was to join them later at Green Hill Farm was eclipsed.
After a pleasant drive of less than an hour, Miss Mason turned off the Central Avenue road and followed a cross-country road that ran through the village where the farmers of that part of the country did their shopping and got their mail.
“If this is a village, where are the stores?” asked Natalie.
“I see it!” exclaimed Mrs. James.
“Oh, I see a little house with a few brooms standing on the front stoop. A sign swinging over the door says ‘Post Office,’—but you don’t mean to say that is our only shop?” laughed Natalie, as she jeered at the general country store.
“That is the ‘Emporium’ for Green Hill,” said Mrs. James.
“No wonder, then, that we’ll have to raise our own food and other necessities,” retorted Natalie humorously.
The girls laughed, for truly the small store had amused them. New York stores were so different!
A mile further on, Mrs. James called to Miss Mason: “We are almost there now. It is the first house on the right-hand side of the road. You can see the towering trees of the front lawn from here.”