“How--how d'ye do, Mrs. Beasley?” faltered Mr. Bangs, not forgetting to raise his voice. “I hope you're lookin' as well as you feel. I mean, I hope you're smart.” Mrs. Beasley nodded decisively. “Yes,” she answered. “I'm pretty toler'ble, thank you. What was the matter, Mr. Bangs? Why didn't you come in? Do you usually make your calls round the corner?” The gentleman addressed seemed unable to reply. The schoolmistress came to the rescue. “You mustn't blame Mr. Bangs, Mrs. Beasley,” she explained. “He wasn't responsible for what happened at Captain Whittaker's. He is the gentleman who drove me over here. I was going to send him to Mrs. Atwood's for the diary.” “Who said I was blamin' him?” queried the widow. “If 'twas that little Tidditt thing I might feel different. But, considerin' that I got this horn from Mr. Bangs, I'm willin' to let bygones be past. It helps my hearin' a lot. Them ear-fixin's was good while they lasted, but they got out of kilter quick. _I_ shan't bother Mr. Bangs. If he can square his own conscience, I'm satisfied.” Bailey's conscience was not troubling him greatly, and he seemed relieved. Phoebe told of the damaged buggy. “Humph!” grunted the widow. “The horse didn't get bent, too, did he?” Mr. Bangs indignantly declared that the horse was all right. “Um--hum. Well, then, I guess I can supply a carriage. My fust cousin Ezra that died used to be doctor here, and he give me his sulky when he got a new one. It's out in the barn. Go fetch your horse, and harness him in. I'll be ready time the harnessin's done.” “You?” gasped the teacher. “You don't need to go, Mrs. Beasley. I wouldn't think of giving you that trouble.” “No trouble at all. I wouldn't trust nobody else with them trunks. And besides, I always do enjoy ridin'. You could go, too, Miss Dorcas, but the sulky seat's too narrer for three. You can set in the settin' room till we get back. 'Twon't take us long. Don't say another word; I'm A-GOIN'.” CHAPTER XVI A REMARKABLE DRIVE AND WHAT FOLLOWED The number of reasons given by Mr. Bangs one after the other, to prove that it would be quite impossible for him to be Mrs. Beasley's charioteer was a credit to the resources of his invention. The blacksmith might be back any minute; it was dinner time, and he was hungry; Henry, the horse, was tired; it wasn't a nice day for riding, and he would come over some other time and take the widow out; he--But Debby had a conclusive answer for each protest. “You said yourself the blacksmith wouldn't be back for an hour,” she observed. “And you can leave word with the boy what he's to do when he does come. As for dinner, I'll be real glad to give you and Miss Dorcas a snack soon's we get back. I don't mind if it ain't a pleasant day; a little fresh air 'll do me good. I been shut up here house-cleanin' ever since I got back from out West. Now, hurry right along, and fetch your horse. I'll unlock the barn.”