them the least attention, the two men conversing in low tones, the old lady continuously readjusting her voluminous skirts and nodding occasionally in the depths of her poke bonnet that completely hid her face, the two girls began to lay happy plans.
"Think you Cousin Eliza will give us a party?" began Mehitable.
Charity gave an excited little bounce in her seat.
"Oh, I do hope so! Don't you, Hitty?" she exclaimed vivaciously.
"Yes, if only John might be there to dance the minuet with me," sighed Mehitable.
"'Tis no use a-wishing," answered Charity sensibly.
"Well, I wish so, anyway." Mehitable looked out gloomily at the passing landscape. But not for long could her spirits droop amid such an adventure. She was soon laughing and chatting again with her sister, so that it seemed no time at all before, with a great rattling and clattering, they swung aside from the post road into an inn yard and everyone except themselves and the old lady descended for dinner.
"Oh, Hitty!" Charity, who was peering into the depths of the napkin Mistress Condit had wrapped their lunch in, gave a cry of delight. "Here is white bread to eat with our cheese. How, think you, Mother could have gotten the flour? She must have bought It the last time she went to Newark! And here—oh, Hitty!—here are some cherry tarts!"
"Truly, Charity?" And Mehitable's dark curls brushed her sister's cheeks as they bent together over he enticing dainties Mistress Condit had prepared
