Nevertheless Mrs Jo wrote her name a dozen times, put on her black
silk, and resigned herself to the impending call, praying for rain,
however, as she returned to her work.

The shower came, and feeling quite secure, she rumpled up her hair,
took off her cuffs, and hurried to finish her chapter; for thirty
pages a day was her task, and she liked to have it well done before
evening. Josie had brought some flowers for the vases, and was just
putting the last touches when she saw several umbrellas bobbing down
the hill.

'They are coming, Aunty! I see uncle hurrying across the field to
receive them,' she called at the stair-foot.

'Keep an eye on them, and let me know when they enter the avenue. It
will take but a minute to tidy up and run down,' answered Mrs Jo,
scribbling away for dear life, because serials wait for no man, not
even the whole Christian Union en masse.

'There are more than two or three. I see half a dozen at least,'
called sister Ann from the hall door. 'No! a dozen, I do believe;
Aunty, look out; they are all coming! What shall we do?' And Josie
quailed at the idea of facing the black throng rapidly approaching.

'Mercy on us, there are hundreds! Run and put a tub in the back entry
for their umbrellas to drip into. Tell them to go down the hall and
leave them, and pile their hats on the table; the tree won't hold
them all. No use to get mats; my poor carpets!' And down went Mrs Jo
to prepare for the invasion, while Josie and the maids flew about