The remainder of the week was spent in further journeying to kinfolk in the neighborhood, and everywhere so warm a welcome met them that Annis was quite overpowered. “The people where I have been,” she said, “usually hunt around for excuses not to entertain you, but down this way they do just the opposite. I never knew such hospitality; but then I’ve never been below Mason and Dixon’s line before, although my father was a Marylander. I must say I like these lovely, warm-hearted people.”
“I knew you would,” returned Persis. “I am so glad we came.”
But no visits made such an impression on the girls as those paid to the stately Cousin Ambrose and to the Three Gray Sisters. Tea taken with the latter proved an event of great interest. Such beautiful old china and silver graced the table,—silver that was hidden under a tree in the garden during the war, and china that escaped being demolished by being taken to the cabin of one of the darky adherents of the family. Such a source of reminiscence and family history was Miss Cyrene, and the girls sat spellbound as she told them tale after tale full of thrilling incident.
“I’d like to have her give a lecture before our club,” said Persis afterward; “she is so interesting. I love to hear those war stories, and all about those duels and law-suits and valorous deeds. They make me tingle to write them down. I think we must utilize them some day.”
“In our paper,” put in Annis.
Persis nodded and settled her head back against the cushions of the car, for they were then on their way home.
“Such a delightful, interesting time we have had, coming home seems very dull,” Persis said, as they turned the corner nearest the house. “I wish we could find something surprising to meet us,” she added, as she mounted the steps.
Strange to say, the surprise was there, for when she opened the door of her room there sat Lisa.
