"Oh!" cried Lucy. She knelt up in the carriage seat, looking back along the road.
"Wave to him, my child.
" Miss Herron leaned back on the reins. Her thin cheeks flushed up, and her gray eyes were like coal fires. "Signal the creature to slow up.
"
"I am, Cousin Agatha. I am waving as hard as I can." She was standing now, meeting with a lithe motion of supple knees and slender hips each plunge of the hurrying carriage, one little hand on the back of the seat.
And with the other, Lucy, who looked at cousin Agatha and then laughed-just a little-signaled gayly if vaguely to the driver of the coming car. This was a young man, whose hair-for he wore no hat-shone in the sun like crisp gold wire.
"Honk!" spoke the horn, "honk!" and then three times more in quicker succession.
Lucy laughed aloud. "Isn't he silly?" And then waved once more.
"Honk!"
"Whoa!" commanded Miss Herron, drawing her steeds to the side of the road.
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