"Yes," said Dorothy, put at her ease at once, and shaking hands with them both; "I'm very glad to see you."
"We are glad to be here," said Mr. Black. "The trip was very warm and tiresome. But this place is most charming."
"And so cool and quiet," said Mrs. Black, sinking into a chair, and looking, Dorothy thought, as if she never meant to rise again.
By this time the other vehicles were depositing their cargoes, both human and freight, and for a moment Dorothy wondered if the Dorrance Domain were large enough to hold the entire collection.
One of the nurses was French, and was talking volubly in her own language to the two children who held her by the hands. One of these children, a girl of five years, was answering her nurse, also in French; while the other, a younger boy, was crying loudly, but whether in French or English, nobody could quite make out.
The other nurse was a large and stout German woman, who was crooning a German folk-song to the baby she carried in her arm. Apparently the baby cared little for German music, for the small infant was pounding its nurse's face with both tiny fists, and making strange gurgling sounds which might be caused either by joy or grief.
All these people came up on the veranda; and after persuading one of the drivers to stay and help him, Mr. Hickox began to carry the luggage into the house.
With a successful effort at composure, Dorothy paid no attention to the children and nurses, and conducted Mr. Black to the office.
"Ah," said he to Leicester; "how do you do, sir, how do you do? Fine place you have up here. Very fine place. Glad I brought my family. Hope they won't make you any trouble."
As the commotion on the veranda seemed to increase each moment, Leicester did not echo this hope, but spoke pleasantly to Mr. Black, and turned the register towards him.