“He's harnessing,” Eddy proclaimed when he went in.
His mother was pinning on her veil before the mirror over the hall settle. Anna was just coming down-stairs in a long, red coat, with a black feather curling against her black hair under her hat.
“Where is Charlotte?” asked Mrs. Carroll.
“She has gone off to walk,” said Eddy.
“Well,” said Mrs. Carroll, “you must go after her and walk with her, Eddy.”
“I don't want to, Amy,” said Eddy. “I want to go to drive.”
Then Carroll came down-stairs and repeated his wife's orders. “Yes, Eddy, you must go to walk with your sister. I don't wish her to go alone,” said he peremptorily. He still looked pale; he had grown thin during the last month.
“I don't see why Charlotte don't get married, too, and have her husband to go with her,” said Eddy, as he went out of the door. “Tagging round after a girl all the time! It ain't fair.”
“Eddy!” called Carroll, in a stern voice; but the boy had suddenly accelerated his pace with his last words, and was a flying streak at the end of the drive.
“Where 'm I goin' to find her?” he complained to himself. He hung about a little until he saw the carriage emerge from the grounds and turn in the other direction, then he went straight down to the main street. Just as he turned the corner he met a small woman, carefully dressed and frizzed, who stopped him.