CHAPTER VII.
A HOLIDAY.
"Poor things," said Mrs. Maclean the next morning at the breakfast table, when she saw Ellen's eyes fill with tears at some mention of her Uncle Villars, "Poor things! it is no wonder you feel bad to part with such a good friend; but you must cheer up, he will soon be back again; and now I will tell you what—instead of setting down to mope in your room to-day we will just make a holiday of it. I will put my ironing off for once, and we will borrow Deacon Foster's horse and shay—the shay will carry us all three easy enough—and I will drive you out to my brother-in-law's farm. Were you ever there?"
"No—never."
"Well—I can tell you there ain't many such farms as Tom Maclean's, and you'll get some of the finest peaches there that you've seen this year. So now I'll go for the horse and shay, and you can put these cups and saucers in the cupboard for me, and get your bonnets on by the time I come for you."
Ellen's face brightened with the anticipated delights of the day—a ride of three miles, and then the privilege of sauntering at will through gardens and orchards, of a sunny day in October—who can wonder at her enjoyment of the thought? Even Mary felt that she might take a holiday "for once," as Mrs. Maclean said, without being a butterfly. So the cups were soon put away, and the bonnets tied on, and soon came Deacon Foster's horse and shay, and Mrs. Maclean driving. Mary and Ellen jumped in, and found, as Mrs. Maclean had told them there would be, plenty of room; and Mrs. Maclean cheruped to the horse, and away they went—not very fast, yet fast enough to get over the three miles in much less time than Mary and Ellen wished. And yet they could scarcely be sorry when they reached the low, but large stone farmhouse, with its field of clover on one side, in which three or four cows were grazing, and its orchard on the other, where among pear and apple trees they could catch glimpses of the red and yellow peaches which Mrs. Maclean had praised so highly. And Mrs. Tom Maclean, and Susy and Martha Maclean, came to welcome them with such pleasant looks and words, that nothing seemed wanting to their gratification. All the morning they walked about with Susy and Martha for their guides—had fruit from the orchard, milk from the dairy, and more flowers from the garden than they could carry home. When called in to dinner they found Mr. Maclean there. He too received them very kindly, and talked of their Uncle Villars, regretting that he had met with any troubles, as he heard he had, and that he should have been obliged to leave his own pleasant home.
"Mrs. Merrill seems almost broken down about it," continued Mr. Maclean; "and she teld me that you was agoing to keep a school for young children: now I'm a thinking of sending our Susy and Martha to you for a while. A little more schooling won't do 'em any harm, and they can go in with the market-cart every morning, and come back home in it when market is over. You can help them, I dare say, and then what they pay will help you—and that's what I call right."
Mary thanked Mr. Maclean, and said she would do her best to "help" his daughters, who smiled at each other, and looked much pleased with the arrangement.
"Well now," said Mr. Maclean, "I should like to know what you're going to charge?"
To this Mary could only answer, whatever he thought right.