“Well, Miss Mary and Master Fred, are you going to spelling-school?”
“Yes, sir,” said Fred, touching his cap; while Mary hoped nothing had happened to the spelling-school to prevent their going.
“And may I ride with you?” asked the young man, with a persuasive bow and smile.
“Yes, sir, if you like,” replied Fred, rather relieved to find it was no worse, though certainly not pleased.
“I’ll drive, of course,” said Mr. Fling serenely, seating himself, and taking Mary in his lap. “Master Fred, your aunt will thank me for happening along just as I did, for you were going at breakneck speed. You would have been spilled out at the next corner.”
Fred’s brows were knitted fiercely under his cap. Was it possible that Mr. Fling was regarded as a gentleman?
“Miss Flaxie,” pursued the interloper, “I hope you’re as glad to see me again as I am to see you. Don’t you feel safer now I’ve taken the reins?”
Mary did not know what reply to make. She was not glad to see him, yet she did feel safer to have him drive. She laughed a little, and the laugh grated unpleasantly on Fred’s ears. This was the first time he had ever taken his young cousin to ride, and he thought it would be the last.
Mr. Fling talked all the way to Miss Pike’s school-house, apparently not minding in the least that nobody answered him. “Now, children,” said he, lifting Mary out, and planting her upon the door-stone before Fred could offer his hand, “now, children, with your permission, I’ll drive a little farther. I’d like to drop in on a few of my old friends in this neighborhood. Give my very best regards to Miss Pike, and tell her I hope to be back in season to hear a little of the spelling.”