There's Phil Perry, but he likes Ellen, and besides he's too serious for me; and there's Mark Wilson; he's the best dressed, and the only one that's been to college. He looks at me all the time in meeting, and asked me if I wouldn't take a walk some Sunday afternoon. I know he planned Ellen's party hoping I'd be there!--Goodness gracious, I do believe that is his horse coming behind me! There's no other in the village that goes at such a gait!"
It was, indeed, Mark Wilson, who always drove, according to Aunt Abby Cole, "as if he was goin' for a doctor." He caught up with Patty almost in the twinkling of an eye, but she was ready for him. She had taken off her sunbonnet just to twirl it by the string, she was so warm with walking, and in a jiffy she had lifted the clustering curls from her ears, tucked them back with a single expert movement, and disclosed two coral pendants just the color of her ear-tips and her glowing cheeks.
"Hello, Patty!" the young man called, in brusque country fashion, as he reined up beside her. "What are you doing over here? Why aren't you on your way to the party? I've been over to Limington and am breaking my neck to get home in time myself."
"I am not going; there are no parties for me!" said Patty plaintively.
"Not going! Oh! I say, what's the matter? It won't be a bit of fun without you! Ellen and I made it up expressly for you, thinking your father couldn't object to a candy-pull!"
"I can't help it; I did the best I could. Wait-still always asks father for me, but I wouldn't take any chances to-day, and I s poke to him myself; indeed I almost coaxed him!"
"He's a regular old skinflint!" cried Mark, getting out of the wagon and walking beside her.
"You mustn't call him names," Patty interposed with some dignity.
"I call him a good many myself, but I'm his daughter."
"You don't look it," said Mark admiringly. " Come and have a little ride, Won't you?"
"Oh, I couldn't possibly, thank you. Some one would be sure to see us, and father's so strict."
"There isn't a building for half a mile! Just jump in and have a spin till we come to the first house; then I'll let you out and you can walk the rest of the way home. Come, do, and make up to me a little for my disappointment. I'll skip the candy-pull if you say the word."
It was an incredibly brief drive, at Mark's rate of speed; and as exciting and blissful as it was brief and dangerous, Patty thought. Did she imagine it, or did Mark help her into the wagon differently from--old Dr. Perry, for instance?
The fresh breeze lifted the gold thread of her curls and gave her cheeks a brighter color, while her breath came fast through her parted lips and her eyes sparkled at the unexpected, unaccustomed pleasure. She felt so grown up, so conscious of a new power as she sat enthroned on the little wagon seat (Mark Wilson always liked his buggies "courtin' size" so the neighbors said), that she was almost courageous enough to agree to make a royal progress through the village; almost, but not quite.
"Come on, let's shake the old tabbies up and start 'em talking, shall we?" Mark suggested." I'll give you the reins and let Nero have a flick of the whip."
