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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"Rudder Grange"


"We want you to bring no milk," I cried, now quite angry. "I want
you to go down to the station, and tell the driver of the express-
wagon to come here immediately. Do you understand? Immediately."
The boy declared he understood, and started off quite willingly.
We did not prefer to have the express-wagon, for it was too public
a conveyance, and, besides, old John knew exactly how to do what
was required. But we need not have troubled ourselves. The
express-wagon did not come.
When it became dark, we saw that we could not leave that night.
Even if a wagon did come, it would not be safe to drive over the
fields in the darkness. And we could not go away and leave the
camp-equipage. I proposed that Euphemia should go up to the house,
while I remained in camp. But she declined. We would keep
together, whatever happened, she said.
We unpacked our cooking-utensils and provisions, and had supper.
There was no milk for our coffee, but we did not care. The evening
did not pass gayly. We were annoyed by the conduct of old John and
the express-boy, though, perhaps, it was not their fault. I had
given them no notice that I should need them.
And we were greatly troubled at the continuance of the secrecy and
subterfuge which now had become really necessary, if we did not
wish to hurt our friends' feelings.
The first thing that I thought of, when I opened my eyes in the
morning, was the fact that we would have to stay there all day, for
we could not move on Sunday.


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