"Mercy upon us, Frances!" cried Rob, pretending to be stunned, though she perfectly understood what Frances meant. "I feel as if you were the chela and I were Kim! Aren't they mahatmas or something, who send down influences? You're an Indian mystic—I hope not an Indian fakir."
But Prue halted in her walk for a moment, holding her golden head high. "I know exactly what Frances means," she said, "and I believe it, too. Only I believe one all alone can make what she wants come to her, without any union of minds."
Wythie turned to look with amazement at the tall girl whom she still regarded as her baby sister. She did not speak, but Rob uttered her thought for her.
"That it is only another way of saying that you feel that your will is very strong, my Prudy, so strong that you can't imagine yourself balked. But many a strong willed person has tasted bitter defeat: take care what you set your will upon," she said.
Prue tossed her head, but did not reply, and the whistle of the train half a mile away quickened the girls' steps and silenced their tongues.
It was curious to see the arrival of the party whom they had gone to meet. Mr. Baldwin handed down his wife and daughter; Mr. Armstrong followed, and then came the three Rutherford boys and Lester Baldwin, each bearing in his arms a child whose thin hands were clasped behind his neck, and whose wizened face looked dully upon the scene upon which they were appearing.
"I feel as if I were taking part in a tableau representing the Romans carrying off the Sabine maidens," said Bruce as soon as he was within speaking distance.
Rob laughed. "The Sabines didn't need robust warriors to steal them," she said, "if they looked like this. Aunt Azraella has sent Aaron with the carriage for the children, because it is more comfortable than these station things, which the rest of us are going to take."
"Wythie, Hester, Rob and Frances had better go up with the children," said Mr. Baldwin. "They will ride more comfortably in their laps."