With much difficulty their mother got a clear account of the approaching festivity out of the eager mouths, and with still more difficulty got breakfast into them, for the children had few pleasures, and this brilliant prospect rather turned their heads.

Bab and Betty thought the day would never end, and cheered the long hours by expatiating on the pleasures in store for them, till their playmates were much afflicted because they were not going also.  At noon their mother kept them from running over to the old house lest they should be in the way, so they consoled themselves by going to the syringa bush at the corner and sniffing the savory odors which came from the kitchen, where Katy, the cook, was evidently making nice things for tea.

Ben worked as if for a wager till four, then stood over Pat while he curried Lita till her coat shone like satin, then drove her gently down to the coach-house, where he had the satisfaction of harnessing her “all his own self.”

“Shall I go round to the great gate and wait for you there, miss?” he asked, when all was ready, looking up at the porch where the young lady stood watching him as she put on her gloves.

“No, Ben, the great gate is not to be opened till next October.  I shall go in and out by the lodge, and leave the avenue to grass and dandelions, meantime,” answered Miss Celia, as she stepped in and took the reins, with a sudden smile.

But she did not start even when Ben had shaken out the new duster and laid it neatly over her knees.

“Isn’t it all right now?” asked the boy, anxiously.

“Not quite; I need one thing more.  Can’t you guess what it is?”—­and Miss Celia watched his anxious face as his eyes wandered from the tips of Lita’s ears to the hind-wheel of the phaeton, trying to discover what had been omitted.

“No, miss, I don’t see—­” he began, much mortified to think he had forgotten anything.

“Wouldn’t a little groom up behind improve the appearance of my turnout?” she said, with a look which left no doubt in his mind that he was to be the happy boy to occupy that proud perch.

He grew red with pleasure, but stammered, as he hesitated, looking down at his bare feet and blue shirt: 

“I aint fit, miss, and I haven’t got any other clothes.”

Miss Celia only smiled again more kindly than before, and answered, in a tone which he understood better than her words: 

“A great man said his coat-of-arms was a pair of shirt sleeves, and a sweet poet sung about a barefooted boy, so I need not be too proud to ride with one.  Up with you, Ben, my man, and let us be off, or we shall be late for our party.”

With one bound the new groom was in his place, sitting very erect, with his legs stiff, arms folded, and nose in the air, as he had seen real grooms sit behind their masters in fine dog-carts or carriages.  Mrs. Moss nodded as they drove past the lodge, and Ben touched his torn hat-brim in the most dignified manner, though he could not suppress a broad grin of delight, which deepened into a chuckle when Lita went off at a brisk trot along the smooth road toward town.