This conversation took place on the way from the station to Highland House. Alan drove his fast greys along the country lanes at their best pace, and, sniffing the fresh sunny air, they devoured the five miles before them and in half an hour trotted up the long avenue of beeches to the great old country-house which Lucy had left in such miserable uncertainty a year before.
The doors at the head of the wide, shallow stone steps were open, and, as Alan drew rein and a stable boy ran to the horses’ bridles, Mrs. Leslie and her husband came out to meet their guests.
Colonel Leslie’s left sleeve hung empty, but he was erect as ever, his face as full of vigor and kindliness. Behind him came Mr. Henry Leslie, a hand on the shoulder of each of his two companions, at sight of whom Lucy’s greetings to the others were struck dumb on her lips.
“Marian! And William!” she cried, and, unable to speak another syllable, she sprang down to the steps and in an instant had her little brother in her arms.
Marian Leslie flung her arms about her neck as Lucy hugged William close to her, Lucy stopping only to hold William off from her far enough to see the changes that two years had brought the chubby five-year-old she had left behind her in America.
“Bigger, aren’t I, Lucy?” he asked, delighted. “But, gee, you’re bigger, too.”
Lucy wanted to cry, and to keep from doing it she caught tight hold of Marian’s hand and turned to present her to Michelle. “And Cousin Janet! Cousin Arthur! Oh, I haven’t spoken to you even!” she cried, the joyful surprise almost too much for her. “Marian, how glad I am to see you! You’ve grown up, you know.”
“So have you,” said Marian, smiling her frank, gay smile, as she shook Michelle’s hand. “Lucy, I almost wouldn’t have known you.”
“Well, I’d have known you in China,” declared Lucy, looking at Marian’s golden hair, now pinned up on her head, and at the unchanged delicate loveliness of rose-leaf skin and soft blue eyes. “Oh, Cousin Henry, how often Bob and I have talked of her! Are you truly well now?” she asked Marian, though the question was hardly needed.
“She is,” Mr. Leslie answered, his voice filled with deep satisfaction. “She’s as strong and well as anybody, and I’ll never forget who made her so.”