"O dear me, how tiresome you are!" exclaimed Alexia, quite exasperated, and picking up the big sofa-pillow to bestow impatient dabs upon it. "O my goodness me!"
For in walked Mrs. Fisher, and Alexia, feeling that in the interview to come she should certainly not be in the right place, skipped to her feet and out of the room, leaving Larry in a miserable state enough to face Joel's mother.
XIII
THE BIG BOX
The little widow ran down the road, not much more than a good-sized trail cut between two hard, frozen banks of snow. Her shoes flapped miserably, and with one hand she held the remnant of a bonnet on her head, the other clutched the old plaid shawl together across her thin chest.
Toiling slowly round the curve came a white horse, very tired and old, dragging a wagon that alternately had the wheels on one side or the other tilted up on either bank, making very difficult progress.
"Hullo! Where be ye goin'?" the occupant of the wagon yelled out, as the little woman ran suddenly almost into the face of the old white horse, who, recognizing an obstacle, gladly stood still in his tracks without the sharp twitch on the reins to pull him up.
"Now how yer goin' ter git by, an' what be yer runnin' so fur anyway, Mis' Hansell?" exclaimed the old man, all in one impatient breath.
The little widow drew a long sigh and glanced about her on either side. The hard, frozen wall seemed to oppress her, and she set her gaze on the old face under the fur cap, but pressed her thin lips together without a word.