"O my! and I'm all in a heap; but I'm so glad!" and she ran out to the wagon, but stopped at the gate with a sudden sensation of bashfulness, and a wonder if she ought not to have said something more to the gentleman.
"How do you do, Sarah?" Kathie's voice was like the softest of silver bells pealing on the frosty air.
"O, I'm so glad! I didn't hardly believe you'd come. I looked last Sat'day. Your letter was so nice. I'm glad you liked the lichen. Jim and me hunted over hundreds of 'em, and found the very biggest. Do get out and come in the house; you must be perished! Is that the uncle you wrote about in your letter?"
"Yes." Uncle Robert had come down the path by this time. "My uncle, Mr. Conover," Kathie said, gracefully, "and Miss Sarah Strong."
Sarah made a dash at her hair again as if she was afraid of its tumbling down, and courtesied to Uncle Robert so in the style of a country school-girl that he smiled inwardly. "O, coax her to get out!" she exclaimed, appealingly. "I've got a fire all ready to light in the best room, and I want you to see my pictures,"—with a very long emphasis on the last syllable. "Mother 'xpects you to stay to dinner, and my Sat'day's work is 'most done. Come in,—do."
By this time Mrs. Strong had made herself tidy and appeared at the hall door.
"Come in," she exclaimed, cordially,—"come in. Sary Ann, show the gentleman how to drive right down to the barn. Jim's there thrashin' and he'll see to the hosses!"
Kathie was handed out. Sarah turned the horses to face the path to the barn.
"Down there," she said. "Steve, come here!"