“So it might be under some circumstances. I think Louisa is lying low so as to outwit her father some way. She’s equal to it if she’s pressed.”
Hannah Maria hugged herself in anticipation of the pleasures in store. “Ain’t it fun?” she said. “I wouldn’t miss it fer a purty. I reckon there’ll be a regular swarm thar. I don’t know whar Cy’ll put ’em all. He ain’t so much room.”
“Those that can’t get in can stay outside,” said Alison. “Louisa said she hoped there would be a big crowd. She said she was going to prepare plenty to eat. She asked me to bring Lolita and we are all going in the cart.”
“Ain’t it fun?” repeated Hannah Maria. “I’m gittin’ anxious to git thar. Ain’t them men most ready? Oh, Bud! You Bud!” she called.
Bud came to the door. “Don’t stand thar jawin’ all day,” said his sister. “Leave them men eat their wittles in peace. I want to git thar airly to see all thet’s goin’ on.” Only on such occasions was Hannah Maria known to be in a hurry, and Bud was scarcely more ready to be on time save when his curiosity was to be gratified—so, after a few more words, he came out.
“We’ll jog on and tell ’em you’re comin’,” he said to Alison. “I’ve a mind not to tell ’em that Iry has come. I suppose you’ll want to wait fer your men folks, and they’ll hev to hev fresh hosses.” Alison watched the two ride away and then went indoors to hasten matters for the others.
It was something more than an hour later that the Ross family drew up before Cyrus Sparks’s house. There was already a large gathering. Many horses were tied to the fence, men stood around in groups, women bustled in and out of the open door, children, escaped from their care-takers, toddled from this person to that.
“Looks like a barbecue or a meetin’ of the co’t,” said Ira, viewing the assemblage with interest.
“It is what you might call a co’t,” laughed Bud, who had stumped out to meet them. “I ain’t told Louisa you’ve come; wanted to give her a surprise. ’Pears to me like she was purty skeert, pore gal. Got them numbers all right?”
Ira nodded. He was off his horse in a twinkling, but made his way into the house with difficulty, being frequently intercepted by those ready to welcome him back and to ask questions. Entering the door, the first person he saw was Cyrus Sparks, who was in high good humor. Two hundred dollars in pocket, and ten chances out of a hundred that he would have a rich son-in-law! The old man stood before the fire beaming a welcome to the eager company. His jaw dropped as Ira elbowed his way to him, but, remembering that all the chances were taken, he recovered himself and made an attempt at playing his part of genial host. “Well, Iry,” he exclaimed, “didn’t expect to see you. I reckon you’ve got a right smart of soldiering stories to tell us, ain’t ye?”