“Not a bit, Miss Rosie,” returned Solon, chuckling; “dey’s just ’sprised, dey was, an’ quiet as two little mouses. ’Spect dey’s wonderin’ what makes deir mudder cry so, and deir fader hug her and dem up so tight.”
“Ah, here comes Herbert,” said Harold, who, with Croly, was riding alongside of the carriage. “We’ll get the whole story from him.”
“Ah, has Solon been telling you of our adventure in the woods this evening?” asked Herbert, reining in his steed near at hand. “It was quite an exciting one, and we have great reason for gratitude over our narrow escape.”
“As we all have,” returned his mother with emotion. “It was you, Herbert, was it not, who saw the tree tottering and gave warning to the others?”
“Yes, mother. I, being on horseback, had of course a much better opportunity to see it than the others in the covered carriage; yet it was a good Providence that turned my eyes in that direction at that precise moment, and thus saved, possibly, all our lives.”
“Oh, we can never be thankful enough for that!” exclaimed his mother. “But Zoe was very much frightened, Solon says?”
“Oh, very much, and no wonder, poor thing! But Edward took her and the babies directly to their rooms, and I have not seen them since. I wrote my letter, rode in to Union and mailed it, and have just ridden out again.”
The carriage had been at a standstill while they talked, but now Mrs. Travilla bade Solon drive on. They were very near home, and in another minute or two had turned in at the avenue gates.
Edward was waiting on the veranda to assist them to alight, and his mother at once inquired anxiously about Zoe and the twins.
“The little ones are asleep, and Zoe is resting pretty quietly now on her couch,” Edward replied. “I suppose Herbert and Solon have told you of our narrow escape from being crushed by a falling tree as we passed through that bit of woods?”