Mrs. Parsons waited till supper-time without much alarm. She thought Christopher had perhaps stopped to play with the children who lived near the school-house—a thing he sometimes did, though his mother had forbidden it—but when the sun was near setting, and still he did not come, she grew uneasy and went over to her brother-in-law's house to see if David knew anything about his cousin. She met David himself at the gate, apparently just come home.
"I have not been in school this afternoon," said he, in answer to her eager question. "Father had an errand he wanted done over at Shortsville (which was another little village on the outlet about five miles away), and I saw a man from there down at the mill, so I just got Miss Hilliard to excuse me, and rode over with him. I came back to the Springs on the cars, and walked the rest of the way. The last I saw of Christopher, he and Osric Dennison were talking together over Osric's dinner."
"It is very strange," said Mrs. Parsons. "Christy never stays so late."
"I don't exactly see what could happen to him between here and the village," said David. "He always comes by the road when he is alone, and even if he had started to come through the woods, the path is perfectly plain. To be sure, he might go off after flowers or some such nonsense. I'll tell you what, auntie, I will just get a bite of supper, and then, if father is willing, I will go back to the village and look him up. Maybe he has gone home with some of the boys, and such young ones never know what time it is, you know."
"It will be making you a great deal of trouble after your long walk," said poor Mrs. Parsons, "but I should be very much obliged to you, David. I can't help feeling very uneasy."
Mr. Ezra Parsons made no objection to David's going to look for his cousin, but his mother rather demurred.
"You have had a long walk already, and you are as tired as you can be. I dare say the young one will turn up all right. Celia is just like a hen with one chicken."
"Well, that's just what she is,—a hen with one chicken!" said Mr. Parsons, smiling. "She is a widow, you know, and Christy is all she has in the world. If she had such a brood as you, mother, she would be more reasonable."
David laughed, and his mother smiled also, for she knew very well that she had been just as anxious about every one of her seven sons as Mrs. Celia was about her one.
"After all, I should feel uneasy, if Harry were out of the way. Chris is a delicate boy, and, as you say, he is all she has. I don't mind if David don't, I'm sure, but the child ought to know better than to stay so."