“Oh, Davie,” Polly was saying mournfully within the coach, “it’s too bad! Mamsie, what shall we do!”
Simmons didn’t hear Mrs. Pepper’s reply. Down his shoulders went and he drooped, letting the reins slacken. And then he straightened up again, quite determined to let matters alone. But as he drove up to the little brown house, and watched them all get out, he couldn’t help but see Davie’s face.
He looked back over his shoulder to watch them go up the path, not taking his gaze off till they were all in, and the green door shut.
“I s’pose I’d felt pretty bad when I warn’t no bigger’n him, to lose my cap, if I didn’t know where to get another. Thunder!”
And before he even put up his horses, Miss Parrott had the whole story.
“I presume they keep boys’ caps down at the store, Simmons?” said Miss Parrott quickly.
“That they do, Ma’am,” said Simmons.
“And perhaps you could tell Mr. Atkins the right size?”
“There wouldn’t be no trouble about that, Ma’am.”
There was a little transaction with money that came out of Miss Parrott’s black silk bag, and Simmons hurried out to take care of his horses, before he attended to the matter that now began to appear quite important to him.