“My arms are strong; have no fear,” he answered, and struck into the path ahead of me.
“Pretty warm,” said Harry, after a few moments. “I reckon I’ll tip off my vest instead of the gravel;” and I saw that his collar was limp and the linen on his shoulders wet through and through.
“This will be sufficient,” said Mrs. Harlan as we finished smoothing the walk. “You have worked so well, Marston, the rest of the day may be your own.”
“Mrs. Harlan,” and Harry stood with his cap in his hand, “I am to go to Claverton this evening, for the ride merely, and I would like to take Marston with me, if you have no objection.”
“To Claverton this evening! You will see Miss Grimshaw and Jennie,” turning to me.
“If I go, I shall hope to see them.”
“I will see;” and she crossed the veranda into her husband’s study.
“Yes, Mr. Harlan is willing you should go,” she said. “I hope the ride will be pleasant. Let me see you before you go, Marston.”
“All ready,” shouted Harry as he drove up in a pretty open buggy drawn by a high-spirited black horse, that pawed the ground just a little, to show his impatience.
“In a minute, Harry.” I had not yet seen Mrs. Harlan, and I flew down stairs and across the hall to the parlor.