" And Harriet had acquiesced.
They sowed the duller vegetables first, and a pleasant
feeling of righteous fatigue stole over them as they
addressed themselves to the peas. Harriet stretched a
string to guide the row straight, and Mrs. Herriton
scratched a furrow with a pointed stick. At the end of it
she looked at her watch.
"It's twelve! The second post's in. Run and see if
there are any letters."
Harriet did not want to go. "Let's finish the peas.
There won't be any letters."
"No, dear; please go. I'll sow the peas, but you shall
cover them up--and mind the birds don't see 'em!"
Mrs. Herriton was very careful to let those peas trickle
evenly from her hand, and at the end of the row she was
conscious that she had never sown better. They were
expensive too.
"Actually old Mrs. Theobald!" said Harriet, returning.
"Read me the letter. My hands are dirty. How
intolerable the crested paper is."
Harriet opened the envelope.
"I don't understand," she said; "it doesn't make sense."
"Her letters never did."
"But it must be sillier than usual," said Harriet, and
her voice began to quaver. "Look here, read it, Mother; I
can't make head or tail."
Mrs. Herriton took the letter indulgently. "What is the
difficulty?" she said after a long pause. "What is it that
puzzles you in this letter?"
"The meaning--" faltered Harriet. The sparrows hopped
nearer and began to eye the peas.
"The meaning is quite clear--Lilia is engaged to be
married.
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