“I was afraid you would lose your flowers, Mrs. Castleton. I quite gave you all up as I saw the cars starting.”
“I am very much indebted to you,” she said, gracefully. “I am so fond of flowers. Their fragrance is really refreshing,” she said, as she raised the large bouquet to her delicate face, not less fair and soft than the beautiful flowers that almost hid it.
The young man looked at her most admiringly, as if it was a beautiful and refined taste, just suited to so lovely and graceful a creature.
The little party passed so pleasant a day together, and the young men were so captivated with Mrs. Castleton’s grace and beauty, and the high spirits and general good looks of the three girls, that it was proposed that they should join parties, and take an “extra” together for the next stage of their journey.
This suited the ladies extremely well, who were not less (only not so openly) charmed with the gentlemen. And the next day a later hour was named for their starting than usual, as the conveyance was their own.
“Is Mrs. Castleton ready?” said Harry Meredith, in a tone of suppressed impatience, the next morning. “It’s most nine o’clock, and we were to have been off at eight.”
“Oh, no!” replied Ruth, in a low voice. “I doubt whether we get off to-day, Harry. She says there’s no hurry as we have an “extra.” I do think with all her pretty ways, she is the most provoking woman!”
“Where is Mary Randall?” he asked.
“Helping her,” continued his sister. “I came away in perfect vexation and despair. As to her husband’s being cross to her, I think he’s a perfect marvel of patience.”
“I declare I am beginning to think so too,” said Harry. “Well, to-morrow we take the boat on the lake, thank fortune! so there’ll be no more running back for flowers and bags.”