Now, don't tell me we don't
know how ter enj'y ourselves!"
It was a very simple matter after that. On the one hand were infinite
tact and skill; on the other, innocence, ignorance, and an overwhelming
gratitude for this sympathetic companionship.
Long before Boston was reached Mr. and Mrs. Warden and "Mr. Livingstone"
were on the best of terms, and when they separated at the foot of the
car-steps, to the old man and woman it seemed that half their joy and
all their courage went with the smiling man who lifted his hat in
farewell before being lost to sight in the crowd.
"There, Abby, we're here!" announced Hezekiah with an exultation that
was a little forced. "Gorry! There must be somethin' goin' on ter-day,"
he added, as he followed the long line of people down the narrow passage
between the cars.
There was no reply. Abigail's cheeks were pink and her bonnet-strings
untied. Her eyes, wide opened and frightened, were fixed on the swaying,
bobbing crowds ahead. In the great waiting-room she caught her husband's
arm.
"Hezekiah, we can't, we mustn't ter-day," she whispered. "There's such a
crowd. Let's go home an' come when it's quieter."
"But, Abby, we--here, let's set down," Hezekiah finished helplessly.
Near one of the outer doors Mr.
Pages:
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185