B'lindy and Jonathan and Aunt Milly nodded their heads. B'lindy, watching Miss Milly's face, was beginning to think that there might be some sense in Nancy's prescription of happiness.
And if in her heart Nancy smothered any wistful longing as she glanced at the locked treasure-box, she forgot it when she, too, watched Aunt Milly.
It was Jonathan who suddenly noticed that the sun was creeping over toward the west and that he'd "better be at the lettuce."
"Goodness to gracious," cried B'lindy, scrambling to her feet with a considerable creaking of joints. "Anne Leavitt, my day's work ain't half done!"
On the way back through the orchard Miss Milly kept tight hold of Nancy's hand, giving it an occasional squeeze.
"I could die happy—now," she whispered.
At the turn of the path beyond the raspberry patch the culprits were confronted by Miss Sabrina. It was a very angry Aunt Sabrina, whose one glance shadowed every bit of sunshine. Even Nancy, the ringleader of the plot, felt her knees give way in fright.
"What are you all about?" Miss Sabrina demanded in a voice cold with anger. "Go about your work, Jonathan Allen. B'lindy, you wheel that ridiculous chair back to wherever you got it from! And you, Milly Leavitt, how dare you meddle with the ways of God?"
Everyone seemed to obey Miss Sabrina without a word of protest. Jonathan faded out of sight, B'lindy disappeared toward the kitchen with the chair and Nancy, followed by Miss Sabrina, carried the trembling Miss Milly back to her couch.
"Anne, you go out now!" Miss Sabrina jerked her head toward the door.