"The woman takes charge of the little girl, I suppose."
This speech caused another burst of merriment. When he recovered himself the man said, "I 'spose she don't. The little girl takes care of her, more likely. She's a regular—"
Here a terrible jolt broke up the sentence, and presently, a man hailed the driver, and asked how far he was going.
Before he was answered, the stranger was subjected to a survey that would have done honor to a detective; then squirting a mouthful of tobacco juice beyond the wheel, he said to Dudley:
"There's Rose Cottage just behind that clump of linden trees; 'tisn't more'n a quarter of a mile. I think it's likely I shall turn off here."
After offering payment for the accommodation, which was answered by another:
"Ha! ha! ha! 'tisn't likely I want pay for such a trifle," Mr. Dudley descended from the wagon by an elastic spring over the wheel; and taking one carpet bag in each hand he started off in the direction indicated.
[CHAPTER III.]
THE RECEPTION.
THE sun was unclouded and the young man soon found the heat intolerable. He leaped the wall into a newly mown field and took a direct line for the stone cottage, becoming every moment more visible. At the distance of two or three hundred rods from the house was the grove of lindens the driver had pointed out. On one side was a patch of delicious green turf, soft and smooth as velvet, where in the shade formed by a cluster of young spruces, lay a couple of Jersey calves, chewing their cuds as they calmly viewed the magnificent prospect.