“‘Go to Sunny Plains alone—and have an adventure! Oh, Aunt Bessie! It’s too good to be true.’
“Unmindful of her headache I clapped my hands, and danced Rob up and down. It was all my own moving time.
“‘But, Marion, what would your mother think?’ she protested, weakly; ‘of course there are near neighbors—and you might take something to eat—and, if I do not get there, you must go across the way and stay all night. The old man who had the two white horses—you remember him, said he was our nearest neighbor, and he hoped we would be neighborly. He said he had a daughter about your age—you might ask her—if I do let you go—to stay with you all night.’
“‘But, after all,’ looking at our trim, colored maid of all work, ‘perhaps Jane may better go and you stay with me. And—’
“‘Oh, no, ma’am, oh, no, indeed, ma’am,’ tremulously interrupted Jane (she was only two years older than I). ‘I couldn’t think of it; I should die of fright. I never lived in a wilderness, and I expect to give warning the first week, for I never can bear the country.’
“‘Now, Aunt Bessie, you see I have to go,’ I persuaded. ‘Jane can’t help being afraid—and I didn’t know how to be afraid—really, I don’t know what to be afraid of. Let Elsie go with me, and we’ll do everything ourselves—have the house all in order for you to-morrow morning, and have the most glorious time we ever had in our lives. My Cousin Jennie isn’t fifteen, and she stayed a week over alone in the country while Uncle and Auntie were away. Oh, do let us go, Aunt Bessie.’
“‘Somebody must, I suppose,’ half consented Aunt Bessie, who was growing whiter every moment; ‘Elsie, are you brave enough to go with Marion?’
“‘Yes, mamma,’ said nine-year-old Elsie, in her grave little way, ‘but I don’t know what the brave is for.’
“‘I’m glad you don’t,’ smiled her mother. ‘Well, Jane—I hope I am not doing wrong—fix two boxes of lunch—and, you know you take the train to Paterson and then the horse-cars to Hanover—I will give you five dollars, Marion, you will have to take a carriage at Hanover—but you know all about it—you went with me to look at the house—and you know where to have the furniture put as I told you that day—and you can get things at the store—half a mile off—Jane, you will have to keep Rob and baby—Marion, I don’t know what your mother will say—it’s well there was a load of things left so that I may have a bed to-night—’
“During this prologue my feet were dancing, and my fingers rubbing each other impatiently, I was so afraid she would end with a sufficient reason for not allowing us to go. I could not believe that we were really off until we sat in the train, each with a huge, stuffed lunch-box, and I with five dollars in my pocketbook and my head confused with ten thousand parting directions, among which was, many times repeated: ‘Be sure to ask that girl to stay all night with you.’