Young Lucretia | Page 9

Mrs. Lennox watched her
progress down the road with frantic impatience. It seemed to her that
she could have gone faster with her chair. Truth was, that poor Aunt
Maria, plodding heavily along in her gaiter-shoes, holding the green
umbrella over her flaming face, made but slow and painful progress,
and it was well that Mr. Lennox and Cynthia Lennox came home two
hours before they were expected. It was three o'clock when Mr. Lennox
came driving into the yard in the open buggy. Cynthia, erect and
blooming, with her big bandbox in her lap, sat beside him, and the new
Jersey cow, fastened by a rope to the tail of the buggy, came on behind
with melancholy moos. Cynthia had bought her wedding-bonnet sooner
than she had expected, so she had come home on the three o'clock train
instead of the five; and her father had bought the cow sooner than he
had expected, and had come to the railroad crossing just about the time
that Cynthia's train arrived. So he had stopped and taken in her and her
bandbox, and they had all ridden home together.
Mrs. Lennox stood in the kitchen door when they drove in.
"Oh, mother," Cynthia cried out, "I've had splendid luck! I've got the
handsomest bonnet!"
"I guess you won't care much about bonnets," answered her mother;
"Fidelia's lost." She spoke quite slowly and calmly, then she began to
weep wildly and lament. It was quite a time before she could make the

case plain to them, and Cynthia and her bandbox, and Mr. Lennox and
the horse and buggy and cow, all remained before her in a petrified
halt.
As soon as Mr. Lennox fairly understood, he sprang out of the buggy,
untied the cow, led her into the barn, turned the team around, with a
sharp grate of the wheels, jumped in again, and gathered up the reins.
Cynthia, her rosy cheeks quite pale, still sat in her place, and the tears
splashed on her new bandbox cover. Mrs. Lennox had set her chair
outside the door, and followed it, with a painful effort. "Stop, father!"
she cried; "I'm goin' too!"
"Oh, mother, you can't!" said Mr. Lennox and Cynthia, together.
"I'm goin'. You needn't say a word. Father, you get out an' help me in."
Mr. Lennox got out and lifted, while Cynthia pulled. Mrs. Lennox's
injured foot suffered, but she set her mouth hard, and said nothing.
They started at a good pace, three on a seat, with Mr. Lennox in the
middle, driving.
They had got about half-way to the store when they overtook Aunt
Maria. Aunt Maria, with the green umbrella overhead, was proceeding
steadily, with a sideways motion that seemed more effective than the
forward one.
"I'll get out, and let her get in," said Cynthia.
"No," said her father; "it won't do; it 'ill break the springs. We can't ride
three on a seat with Aunt Maria, anyhow, and I've got to drive."
So they passed Aunt Maria.
"Don't go any farther, Aunt Maria," Cynthia called, sobbingly, back to
her. "You sit down on the wall and rest."
But Aunt Maria shook her head, she could not speak, and kept on.
It was quarter-past three when they reached the Rose house and the

store. The store was in the front of the house, and the Rose family
occupied the rear portion. The house stood on a street corner, so a good
deal of it was visible, and the whole establishment had a shut-up air;
not a single farmer's wagon stood before the store. However, as Mr.
Lennox drove up, a woman's head appeared at a window; then a side
door opened, and she stood there. She had on a big apron, and her face
was flushed as if she had been over the stove; she held a great wooden
spoon, too. She began talking to the Lennoxes, but they paid no
attention to her--their eyes were riveted upon the store door. There was
a speck of white against its dark front, and suddenly it moved. It was
Fidelia's white tier.
"Why, there's Fidelia!" gasped Cynthia. She jumped out, not waiting
for her father to turn the wheel, and ran to the store door. The bandbox
rolled out and the lid came off, and there was her wedding-bonnet in
the dust, but she did not mind that. She caught Fidelia. "Oh, you
naughty little girl, where have you been all this time?" cried she.
Fidelia's eyes took on a bewildered stare, her mouth puckered more and
more. She clung to her sister, and sobbed something that was quite
inaudible. It was quite a time before her father and mother and Cynthia
and Mrs. Rose, surrounding her with attention, could gather that the
import of it all was that