ernoon, and I am a
very slow driver. Are you sure there is nothing you want? I shall go
directly past the store, and can stop as well as not."

"Thank you very much," said Lawrence, "but I do not believe that
Howlett's possesses an article that I need. One thing I will ask you
to do for me before you go. I want to write a letter, and I find that
I am out of paper; therefore I shall be very much obliged to you, if
you will let me have some, and some envelopes."

"Why, certainly," said Miss Annie, and she went into the house.

She looked over the stock of paper which her aunt kept in a desk in
the dining-room, but she did not like it. "I don't believe he will
want to write on such ordinary paper as this," she said to herself.
Whereupon she went up-stairs and got some of her own paper and
envelopes, which were much finer in material and more correct in
style. "I don't like it a bit," she thought, "to give this to him to
write that letter on, but I suppose it's bound to be written, anyway,
so he might as well have the satisfaction of good paper."

"You must excuse these little sheets," she said, when she took it to
him, "but you couldn't expect anything else, in an Amazonian household
like ours. Cousin Junius has manly stationery, of course, but I
suppose it is all locked up in that secretary in your room."

"Oh, this will do very well indeed," said Lawrence; "and I wish I
could come out and help you into your vehicle," regarding the spring
wagon which now stood at the door, with Plez at the head of the solemn
sorrel.

"Thank you," said Miss Annie, "that is not at all necessary." And she
tripped over to the spring wagon, and mounting into its altitudes
without the least trouble in the world, she took up the reins. With
these firmly grasped in her little hands, which were stretched very
far out, and held very wide apart, she gave the horse a great jerk and
told him to "Get up!" As she moved off, Lawrence from his open door
called out: "_Bon voyage_" and in a full, clear voice she thanked
him, but did not dare to look around, so intent was she upon her
charioteering.

Slowly turning the horse toward the yard gate, which Plez stood
holding open, her whole soul was absorbed in the act of guiding the
equipage through the gateway. Quickly glancing from side to side, and
then at the horse's back, which ought to occupy a medium position
between the two gateposts, she safely steered the front wheels through
the dangerous pa