"And to think I EVER believed he was old!" said Rose.
"Hold still till I tie yer hats on with a veil. Now, which will ye wear,
Miss Rose?"
"Pink, because it's ROSE color," cried Rose.
"No, no!" said Polly; "the blue is prettier!"
At last they were ready. They ran down the stairway, Nora following with the suit cases, and laughing because they hopped on every other stair.
"All ready? Why, what charming little ladies I have to take home! Those veils are really all right, and hugely becoming. Would you like to start now, or wait an hour or two?" As he asked the question his brown eyes were dancing.
"Oh, now, NOW!" they cried.
He laughed, and stooping, lifted little Rose so that he could look straight into her eyes, eyes as brown as his own.
"Little Rose Atherton," he said softly, "you are like your father, and your mother, too, but most of all you are every inch an Atherton."
He kissed her gently and set her down, but the look in his eyes and the kiss had won her little heart, and she clung to his hand.