The last exclamation was drawn forth by Julia Warren, who had seated herself at the root of the largest maple, and with her lap full of flowers, was arranging them into bouquets. On hearing Robert's voice she looked up with a glance of pleasant surprise, and a smile broke over her lips. There was something so rosy and joyous in his face, and in the tones of his voice, that it rippled through her heart as if a bird overhead had just broken into song. The youth looked upon her for a moment with his bright, gleeful eyes, then, throwing off his hat and sweeping back the damp chestnut curls from his forehead, he sat down by her side, and cast a glance of laughing defiance at his relative.
"Come out here and get the kisses, Aunt Sarah, I have made up my mind to stay among the flowers!"
Mrs. Gray laughed at the young rogue's impudence, as she called it, and came out to meet him.
"Now this is too bad," exclaimed the youth, starting up: "don't box my ears, aunt, and besides paying the kisses, I will embrace you dutifully—upon my life I will—that is if my arms are long enough," and with every appearance of honest affection, the youth cast one arm around the portly person of his aunt, and pressed a warm kiss on her cheek.
"You are welcome home, Robert, always welcome; and I wish you a happy Thanksgiving with my whole heart. Julia dear, this is my nephew, Mr. Robert Otis. His mother and I were sisters—only sisters; there were three of us in all, two daughters and a son. He is the only child among us, that is the reason I spoil him so."
Julia, who had just recovered from the blush that crimsoned her cheek at his first approach, came forward and extended her hand to the youth with a timid and gentle grace, that seemed too composed for her years.
"And Miss Julia Warren, who is she, dear aunt?" questioned the youth, in a half whisper, as the girl moved toward the house, holding the loose flowers to her bosom with one hand.
"The dearest and best little girl that ever lived, Robert; that is all I know about her!" was the earnest reply.
"And enough, who wants to know any more about any one," returned the youth; "and yet Mr. Leicester would say that something else is wanting before we invite strangers to eat Thanksgiving dinners with us. He would say that all this is imprudent."
"Mr. Leicester is very wise, I dare say, and I am but a simple old woman, Robert; but somehow that which seems right for me to do always turns out for the best."