"Why, aunt, you don't mean to go so soon?" cried Mrs. Snow, with a
reproachful glance at the rebellious Polly.

"Far from it. I wish to see Judge Banks about altering my will," was
the awful answer.

Polly's face fell; her mother gave a despairing sigh; Toady, who had
hovered about the door, uttered a suppressed whistle of dismay; and
Mrs. Kipp looked about her with vengeful satisfaction.

"Get the big carryall and old Bob, so the boy can drive, and all of
you come; the trip will do you good."

It was like Aunt Kipp to invite her poor relations to go and "nip
their own noses off," as she elegantly expressed it. It was a party of
pleasure that just suited her, for all the fun was on her side. She
grew affable at once, was quite pressing in her invitation, regretted
that Sophy was too busy to go, praised Polly's hat; and professed
herself quite satisfied with "that dear boy" for a driver. The "dear
boy" distorted his young countenance frightfully behind her back, but
found a balm for every wound in the delight of being commander of the
expedition.

The big carryall appeared, and, with much creaking and swaying Mrs.
Kipp was got into the back seat, where the big bonnet gloomed like a
thunder-cloud. Polly, in a high state of indignation, which only made
her look ten times prettier, sat in front with Toady, who was a sight
to see as he drove off with his short legs planted against the boot,
his elbows squared, and the big whip scientifically cracking now
and then. Away they went, leaving poor Mrs. Snow to bewail herself