Fickle fortune, that often favors the wrong and erring, certainly smiled on the lovers that day. For scarcely had Christie entered the house, when Mrs. Tom came bustling out, in deep distress, saying, in heart-rending tones:
"What is to be done? This five-and-forty year, rain or shine, I've had a cup o' tea for breakfast; and, now, there ain't a grain in the house. I jest know, as well as if somebody told me, that I won't be fit for nothin' to-morrow, when I ain't got a cup o' tea for my breakfast; and there's no use tryin' to make that there good-for-nothin' Carl, go for any to-night. It allers was my luck to have the most dreadfulest bad luck, but I never thought things would come to sich a pass as this. Scat! you hussy!" And Mrs. Tom gave the cat a kick, which was her usual way of winding up an address.
"Aunt Tom," said Christie, "let me go."
"You! Are you crazy? How are you goin' to go?"
"Mr. Drummond is going over to Westport this evening, and he wanted me to go with him," said Christie, turning away to hide a rising blush. "I can easily get it there."
"So you can," said Mrs. Tom, considering; "but will Mr. Drummond return early?"
"Yes," said Christie; "he has some slight business to transact, and then he is coming immediately home. The sail will be pleasant by moonlight, and I'd like to go."
"Well, go, then; and don't be gone any longer than you can help. Get two poun's of hyson at Mr. Ginger's."
"Yes ma'am," said Christie, taking the money, and putting on her hat and shawl, in a trembling, agitated way, that at any other time Mrs. Tom must have noticed.
She hurried out, and on her way met Willard coming up to the house.