"Mr. Ashmore wrote that it cost three hundred and fifty dollars," was Carrie's reply.
Grandmother was perfectly horror-stricken; but desirous of making Carrie feel as comfortable as possible, she said, "S'posin somebody should tell him about Penoyer?"
For an instant Carrie turned pale, as she said quickly, "What does any one know about him to tell?"
"A great deal—more than you think they do—yes, a great deal," was grandma's answer.
After that Carrie came very frequently to see us, always bringing something nice for Emma or grandma!
Meanwhile Mr. Evelyn's visits continued, and when at last Emma could see him I was sure that she received him more kindly than she ever had before. "That'll go yet," was grandma's prediction. But her scheming was cut short by a letter from Emma's father, requesting her immediate return. Mr. Evelyn, who found he had business which required his presence in Worcester, was to accompany her thus far. It was a sad day when she left us, for she was a universal favorite. Sally cried, I cried, and Bill either cried or made believe, for he very industriously wiped his eyes and nasal organ on his shirt sleeves: besides that, things went on wrong side up generally. Grandma was cross—Sally was cross—and the school-teacher was cross; the bucket fell into the well, and the cows got into the corn. I got called up at school and set with some hateful boys, one of whom amused himself by pricking me with a pin, and when, in self-defense, I gave him a good pinch, he actually yelled out: "She keeps a-pinchin' me!" On the whole, 'twas a dreadful day, and when at night I threw myself exhausted upon my little bed I cried myself to sleep, thinking of Cousin Emma and wishing she would come back.
CHAPTER VI.
MIKE AND SALLY.
I have spoken of Sally, but have said nothing of Mike, whom, of all my father's hired men, I liked the best. He it was who made the best cornstalk fiddles, and whittled out the shrillest whistles with which to drive grandma "ravin' distracted." He, too, it was who, on cold winter mornings, carried Lizzie to school in his arms, making me forget how my fingers ached, by telling some exploit of his schooldays.