"
"Oh, I won't, I won't," promised Van wildly. "I don't want the bag; do let
me go, Candace."
"Yer see, Mas'r Joel was a-helpin' me," said Candace, slowly releasing
Van's jacket collar, "an' 'twarn't none 'o his fault dat he stopped
kerryin' de letters." But Van was off from under her open fingers and shot
across the green in the opposite direction from little Dick and his party.
"Now I'll take my dolls to de ladies," observed Candace, bundling them up
in her clean, checked apron. She sent a satisfied glance after Joel, making
quick time toward the post office, then waddled off.
"Boy!" called a fine, imperious voice, as Joel dashed by a group of ladies
and gentlemen. As there wasn't any other boy in sight, he might be supposed
to be the one wanted; but Joel by this time was frantic to get to the post
office, and with his mind filled with mortification and distress at his
delay from his duty, he paid no heed to the call, now repeated more
insistently.
"It's a lady," then said Joel to himself, "so I must go back. Oh, dear me!"
He wheeled abruptly, and, hot and red-faced, plunged up to the group.
"What is it, ma'am?" Then he saw to his disgust that it was Mrs.
Chatterton. She was surrounded by friends whom she had met abroad.
"Why didn't you come when I bade you?" she exclaimed arrogantly. "Don't you
know it's your place to serve me?"
"No, ma'am," said Joel bluntly, his black eyes fixed on her face.
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