Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward,
The Atlantic Monthly
(1866)
“ We must have tried her that afternoon, Clara and Winthrop and I; for the spirit of her own excitement had made us completely wild. Winthrop's scream of delight when, stationed on the gate-post, he caught the first sight of the old yellow coach, might have been heard a quarter of a mile. "Coming?" said mother, nervously, and stepped out to the gate, full in the sunlight that crowned her like royal gold. The coach lumbered on, and rattled up, and passed. "Why, she hasn't come!" All the eager color died out of her face. "I am so disappointed!" ”

