acking of the trunk was a task which fell to Lucinda's lot and was
performed under the eagle eye of her mistress. Aunt Mary's ideas of what
she would require were delightfully unsophisticated and brought up short
on the farther-side of her tooth brush and her rubbers. Nevertheless she
agreed in Lucinda's suggestions as to more extensive supplies.

Late that afternoon Joshua drove into town (amidst a wealth of mud
spatters) and dispatched the answer to Jack's letter. Aunt Mary was urged
to haste by several considerations, some well defined, and others not so
much so. To Lucinda she imparted her terrible anxiety over the dear boy's
health, but not even to herself did she admit her much more terrible
anxiety lest Arethusa or Mary should suddenly appear and insist on
accompanying her. She wanted to go, but she wanted to go alone.

Jack telegraphed a response that night, and his aunt left by the Monday
morning train. She had a six o'clock breakfast, and drove into town at a
quarter of nine so as to be absolutely certain not to miss the train.
Joshua drove, with the trunk perched beside him. It was a small and
unassuming trunk, but Aunt Mary was not one who believed in putting on
airs just because she was rich. Lucinda sat on the back seat with her
mistress.

"I'm sure I hope you'll enjoy yourself," she said.

"Of course he's nothing but a boy," Aunt Mary replied,--"an' I've told you
a hundred times that boys will be boys and we mustn't expect otherwise."

They arrived on time, and only had an hour and three-quarters to wait in
the station. Toward the last Aunt Mary grew very nervous for fear
something had happened to the train; but it came to time according to the
waiting-room clock. Joshua put her aboard, and she soon had nothing left
to worry over except the wonder as to whether Jack would be on hand to
meet her or not.

Joshua drove back home, let Lucinda out at the door, and put the horse up
before going in to where she sat in solitary glory.

"I wonder what _he's_ up to?" she said with a pleasant sense of unlimited
freedom as to the subject and duration of the conversation.

"Suthin', of course," was the answer.

"Do you s'pose he's really sick?"

"No, I don't."

"Do you s'pose she thinks he's really sick?"

"Mebbe."

"Ain't you goin' to sit down, Joshua?"

"I don't see nothin' to make me sit down here for."

"What do you think of her going?" she said, as he walked toward the door.

"I think she'll ha