Mr. Boyd chuckled as he glanced down at her; a body'd have to get up
pretty early in the morning to get ahead of that youngster. Though not
in white, nor wearing cherry ribbons, Mr. Boyd sported his badge with
much complacency. Winton was looking up, decidedly. 'Twasn't such a
slow old place, after all.
"All ready?" he asked, as Pauline slipped a couple of big pasteboard
boxes under the wagon seat, and threw in some shawls for the coming
home.
"All ready. Good-by, Mother Shaw. Remember, you and father have got
to come with us one of these days. I guess if Mr. Boyd can take a
holiday you can."
"Good-by," Hilary called, and Patience waved joyously. "This'll make
two times," she comforted herself, "and two times ought to be enough to
establish what father calls 'a precedent.'"
They stopped at the four other houses in turn; then Mr. Boyd touched
his horses up lightly, rattling them along at a good rate out on to the
road leading to the lake and so to The Maples.
There was plenty of fun and laughter by the way. They had gone
picnicking together so many summers, this same crowd, had had so many
good times together. "And yet it seems different, this year, doesn't
it?" Bell said.
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