You wait at Meeting-House Hill."
"_I'm_ not going to be busy this morning," Patience insinuated.
"Oh, yes you are, young lady," Pauline told her. "Mother said you were
to weed the aster bed."
Patience looked longingly after the two starting gayly off down the
path, their cameras swung over their shoulders, then she looked
disgustedly at the aster bed. It was quite the biggest of the smaller
beds.--She didn't see what people wanted to plant so many asters for;
she had never cared much for asters, she felt she should care even less
about them in the future. Tiresome, stiff affairs!
By the time Tom and Hilary reached the old Cross-Roads' Meeting-House
that morning, after a long roundabout ramble, Hilary, for one, was
quite willing to sit down and wait for Pauline and the trap, and eat
the great, juicy blackberries Tom gathered for her from the bushes
along the road.
It had rained during the night and the air was crisp and fresh, with a
hint of the coming fall. "Summer's surely on the down grade," Tom
said, throwing himself on the bank beside Hilary.
"So Paul and I were lamenting this morning. I don't suppose it matters
as much to you folks who are going off to school.
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