The little party arrived at the close of a bright spring day. Mrs. Burke received them upstairs in her room. There were tears in her sister's eyes as she embraced her. And Mrs. Burke remarked in her cheery way:
"There's nothing left of me to be afraid of. I'm just an old rheumatic cripple, and there will be nothing in my house now to shock or distress you. Now introduce me to my great-nephew and nieces."
George Holt was a handsome boy, slight in make but very upright. The elder girl Bertha was fair, with a sweet, sunny face. The young one, Milly, was a bright little tomboy. Her short curly hair and piquant mischievous face attracted Mrs. Burke at once.
Before very long the young people were chatting to her as if they had known her all her life, and she was, in her genial happy way, promising them all kinds of joys through the holidays—ponies to ride, expeditions to the sea, and boating on the river. Their delight in their new surroundings amused and pleased her.
"We never knew you had such a lovely house," said Milly. "Why it seems like a palace to us! You should just see our lodgings that we have left. Granny was miserable in them—they were so dirty."
"You must all make yourselves at home," Mrs. Burke told them. "Don't ask what you may do, but just do it, if you want to."
It brought much enjoyment to her hearing the young voices about the house. Rowena found her gazing out of the window one day following, with real enjoyment, the antics of George and Milly as they chased each other over and round the flower-beds, a couple of dogs yelling at their heels.
"It keeps me young to have them here, Rowena," she said rather pathetically. "Couldn't I keep them altogether? Must they go away to school?"
"George ought to, of course," said Rowena. "I don't know what your plans are. But you might have a resident governess for the girls and keep them with you, if you would like them."
Mrs. Burke laughed.