king on a little way with Solomon John and her father, to be
picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have finished her packing in
time. Her mother must have supposed that she had done so,--that she
had spoken to Amanda, and started with the rest. Well, she would soon
discover her mistake. She would overtake the walking party, and, not
finding Elizabeth Eliza, would return for her. Patience only was needed.
She had looked around for something to read; but she had packed up all
her books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She
tried to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the family.
They were good walkers, and they might have reached the two-mile bridge.
But suppose they should stop for water beneath the arch of the bridge,
as they often did, and the carryall pass over it without seeing them,
her mother would not know but she was with them? And suppose her mother
should decide to leave the horse at the place proposed for stopping
and waiting for the first pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no
one would be left to tell the rest, when they should come up to the
carryall. They might go on so, through the whole journey, without
meeting, and she might not be missed till they should reach her
grandfather's!

Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The expressman
would come, but the expressman would go, for he would not be able to get
into the house!

She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was shut
up in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and knew not
when she should be released! She had acted once in the ballad of the
"Mistletoe Bough." She had been one of the "guests," who had sung "Oh,
the Mistletoe Bough," and had looked up at it, and she had seen at the
side-scenes how the bride had laughingly stepped into the trunk. But the
trunk then was only a make-believe of some boards in front of a sofa,
and this was a stern reality.

It would be late now before her family would reach her grandfather's.
Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. Perhaps they would fancy
she was coming by express. She gave another tremendous effort to move
the trunk toward the door.

In vain. All was still.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering why
Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started on with
Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had packed the things
into the carriage,--a basket of lunch, a ch