Mrs. Crane drifted into the room almost at the same moment two men appeared from outdoors.
A happy complacency was the chief attribute of Peter's mother, and this spoke from every smile of her amiable face and every movement of her plump but still graceful form.
As Peter adjusted the cushions she took a low willow chair and smiled a greeting at all, including the newcomers.
These were Kit Shelby and Gilbert Blair, the two companions of the Labrador trip.
They were good-looking, well set-up chaps, quite evidently unable to talk of anything save the plans for the momentous journey.
"Got a wonder for a guide," began Shelby, as soon as decent greetings had been made. "He's just been let loose by Sir Somebody of Somewhere, and I nailed him. Name o' Joshua,—but we can stand that. He really knows it all,—without continually proclaiming the fact."
"I'm thankful that you've a fine guide," murmured Mrs. Crane, in her satisfied way. "It means so much to me to know that."
"You're right, Lady Crane," assented young Blair. "And old Peter will have to obey him, too."
"Of course I shall," put in Peter. "I always bow to authority, when it's greater than my own. Oh, won't it all be great! I'm crazy to start. Think of it, Dad,—we three fellows sitting around a camp fire, smoking our pipes and spinning yarns of an evening, after a long day's hike over the ice and snow!"
"Thought you were going in a canoe," said his sister.