his cheeks that made him look like the Fred of former days. After driving for nearly an hour, the carriage stopped.
“Are we home?” asked Fred, starting to rise.
“At mine, not yours. Mother was going out to tea, to-night, and you have been such a good boy that, as a reward of merit, I am going back to dinner with you; only I must stop and tell mother, and send word to Rob to come down after me. Shall I come?” And Bess paused with a smile, waiting to see the effect of her new plan.
“Oh, yes, do come!” said Fred eagerly. “And tell Bob not to come for you too early.”
“What fun we’ll have,” he continued, when Bess had come back from the house and they were driving away, regardless of the wails of Fuzz, who surveyed them from a front window. “We’ll play—how I wish I ever could play games any more!” And his face grew dark again.
“You can, ever so many. But will you go home, or shall we drive a little longer?”
“Home, please: that is, if you are willing, Miss Bessie.”
