“But it’s dreadful to hear Miss Bethia speak disrespectfully of horseshoes,” said Jem.
“I think there’s something more to be expected from your father’s son than horseshoes,” said Miss Bethia.
“But horseshoes may do for a beginning,” said David. “And by and by, perhaps, it may be engines, and railways; who knows?”
“And good horseshoes are better than bad sermons, and they pay better than good ones,” said Jem. “And I’m bound to be a rich man. You’ll see, Miss Bethia.”
Then he went on to tell of the wonderful things that were to happen when he became a rich man. Old Don was to be superannuated, and his father was to have a new horse, and a new fur coat to wear when the weather was cold. His mother and Violet were to have untold splendours in the way of dress, and the children as well. Davie was to go to college, and there should be a new bell to the church, and a new fence to the grave-yard, and Miss Bethia was to have a silk gown of any colour she liked, and a knocker to her front door. There was a great deal of fun and laughter, in which even Miss Bethia joined, and when Violet called them to tea, Jem whispered to David that they had escaped her serious lecture for that time.
After tea, they all went again to the kitchen, which, indeed, was as pleasant as many parlours, and while Violet washed the tea-dishes, Miss Bethia went on with the ironing, and the boys went on with their lessons. Just as they were all beginning to wonder what could be delaying the return home of their father and mother, there came a messenger to say that they had been obliged to go much farther than Mr Spry’s, to see a sick person, and that as they might not be home that night, the children were not to wait for them past their usual time of going to bed.
There were exclamations of disappointment from the younger ones, and little Mary, who was getting sleepy and a little cross, began to cry.
“I had a presentiment that we should not see them to-night,” said David, taking his little sister on his lap to comfort her. “Never mind, Polly. Mamma will be home in the morning, and we must be able to tell her that we have all been good, and that nobody has cried or been cross, but quite the contrary.”
“I wish your mother knew that I had happened along. It would have set her mind at rest about you all,” said Miss Bethia.
The young people were not so sure of that, but there would have been no use in saying so.