“Can we drive in here?” asked Master Tom, quickly, of the girls, whom he instinctively knew were in charge.
“Yes,” said Lyddy. “Of course any friends of Mrs. Castle’s will be welcome.”
Tom sang out for the chauffeur to turn into the lane, and in a minute or two the motor party stopped in the grass-grown driveway within plain view of the people on the porch.
“Will you look at who’s here?” demanded Master Tom, standing with his legs wide apart and waving his arms excitedly.
The rather stout, ruddy-faced man reading the Sunday paper dropped the sheet and gazed across at the bridling old lady.
“Why, Mother!” he cried.
“Grandma–if it isn’t!” exclaimed one young lady, who was about nineteen.
“Mother Castle!” gasped the lady who sat beside Mr. Castle on the rear seat.
“Hullo, Grandma!” shouted the other girl, who was younger than Tom.
“I hope you all know me,” said Grandmother Castle, rising and leaving her knitting in her chair, as she approached the automobile. “I thought some of sending for some more clothing to-morrow; but you can take my order in to-day.”