“My dear Miss Saxon!  In what way?”

“Invited my party,—­some of them,—­and taken my road.  That’s all.  I spoke first, though I didn’t speak out loud.  See here!” And she produced a letter from her mother, received that morning.  “Observe the date, if you please,—­August 24.  ‘Your letter reached me yesterday.’  And it had traveled round, as usual, two days in papa’s pocket, beside.  I always allow for that.  ’I quite approve your plan; provided, as you say, the party be properly matronized.  I’—­H’m—­h’m! that refers to little explanations of my own.  Well, all is, I was going to do this very thing,—­with enlargements.  And now Miss Craydocke and I may collapse.”

“Why, when with you and your enlargements we might make the most admirable combination?  At least, the Dixville road is open to all.”

“Very kind of you to say so,—­the first part, I mean,—­if you could possibly have helped it.  But there are insurmountable obstacles on that Dixville road—­to us.  There’s a lion in the way.  Don’t you see we should be like the little ragged boys running after the soldier-company?  We couldn’t think of putting ourselves in that ‘bony light,’ especially before the eyes of Mrs.—­Grundy.”  This last, as Mrs. Thoresby swept impressively along the piazza in full dinner costume.

“Unless you go first, and we run after you,” suggested the General.

“All the same.  You talked Dixville to her the very first evening, you know.  No, nobody can have an original Dixville idea any more.  And I’ve been asking them,—­the Josselyns, and Mr. Wharne and all, and was just coming to the Goldthwaites; and now I’ve got them on my hands, and I don’t know where in the world to take them.  That comes of keeping an inspiration to ripen.  Well, it’s a lesson of wisdom!  Only, as Effie says about her housekeeping, the two dearest things in living are butter and experience!”

Amidst laughter and banter and repartee, they came to it, of course; the most delightful combination and joint arrangement.  Two wagons, the General’s and Dr. Ingleside’s two saddle-horses, Frank Scherman’s little mountain mare, that climbed like a cat, and was sure-footed as a chamois,—­these, with a side-saddle for the use of a lady sometimes upon the last, made up the general equipment of the expedition.  All Mrs. Grundy knew was that they were wonderfully merry and excited together, until this plan came out as the upshot.

The Josselyns had not quite consented at once, though their faces were bright with a most thankful appreciation of the kindness that offered them such a pleasure; nay, that entreated their companionship as a thing so genuinely coveted to make its own pleasure complete.  Somehow, when the whole plan developed, there was a little sudden shrinking on Sue’s part, perhaps on similar grounds to Sin Saxon’s perception of insurmountable obstacles; but she was shyer than Sin of putting forth her objections, and the general zeal and delight, and Martha’s longing look, unconscious of cause why not, carried the day.