“What is she doing?” asked Amy.
“Oh! she hears King’s lessons for an hour, and studies with him; he’s her care, you know, while Mrs. Fisher is away. But she might slip off a few minutes once in a while, and he’d study by himself. But horses can’t drag her away till the hour is up.”
“No,” said Amy slowly, “I shouldn’t think they could.”
“Umph!” said Alexia, remembering Polly’s frightful trials with her little music-scholar. Then she added kindly, “Oh! of course not; but we do want her just awfully this morning. We’re going to have a driving-party down to the Glen; and of course no one can do anything without Phronsie.”
“Oh! of course not,” said Amy.
“Well, it won’t make that tiresome clock go ahead any faster,” observed Alexia, “to watch it,” tearing off her gaze from the tall clock in an angle of the hall, “so I’m going off to find Cathie.”
Amy sat down in a niche by the window, and busied herself with a little book she drew out of her pocket. How long she read she did not know, but King rushed past in a whirlwind of delight. “Phronsie said I could go! Hooray!” and Phronsie came out into the hall, followed by Joel.
“Now,” said Phronsie, “we must hurry and get up the Glen driving-party. Joel, please see that Johnson understands that the horses are brought around for those who are to ride. And, O Joel! please see that the drag is ready, and my cart.”
“Oh, yes! and the trap, and the whole list of them. You ride Firefly, Phronsie, of course; and I’m going to take one of the black horses, Polly said I could, and ride with you.”
“No,” said Phronsie; “Grace Tupper is to ride Firefly.”