“We knew you would find some one to bring you home,” she said, smiling up at them. “Your father was disappointed that he couldn’t come for you himself, but he took our friends to the station, and then, just as he was ready to start for you, he was called to the other end of the town. Come in, Morton,” she added, turning to the young man, who was helping the girls over the wheel; “I must have a full account of the doings to-day, and it may be a one-sided report if I have only the family version of it.”
“But there is only one side, Mrs. Northmore,” said the young man. “Everything went gloriously,—specially the dinner,—and everybody behaved beautifully except me. Kate’ll tell you how bad I was. No, I can’t stay. There’s an errand I must do before dark.”
“I shan’t take anybody’s report against you, Morton, unless it’s your own, and I’m not sure that I’ll admit even that,” said Mrs. Northmore. It was in her eyes as well as her voice how much she liked the big brown fellow. “Well, if you must go—but come and see us soon. Don’t work so hard this summer that you’ll have no time for your friends.”
She took an arm of each of the girls and walked with them up the gravel path between the rows of blossoming catalpas. “So the day has gone well?” she said, glancing from one to the other.
“As if you had been there yourself, mother,” said Esther, and Kate added: “It’s been a regular picnic. I never enjoyed a day more in my life.”
In different ways each of the girls resembled her strongly. Esther had the broad, low forehead and serious eyes, but Kate had the resolute mouth with a touch of playfulness lurking at the corners. A girl, much younger than either, rolled sleepily out of the hammock as they stepped on the veranda.
“Oh, I’m glad you’ve come,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “This has been the longest, stupidest day I ever saw. Papa’s been away, and mamma’s been busy with the company, and Aunt Milly’s been so cross because she couldn’t go out to the farm, that she’s been ready to snap my head off every time I looked in at the kitchen. Even the cat went off visiting.”
“What a dull day you’ve had of it, Virgie!” said Esther, kissing the child’s flushed cheek. “But what ailed Aunt Milly? She knows she couldn’t be spared to go out there to-day.”
“Of course she knows it,” said Mrs. Northmore, “and she would have felt even worse to be spared from here, but I suspect the real grievance was the cheerfulness with which you girls left her behind. She wanted to feel that she was needed in both places. Poor old Milly, she can’t reconcile herself to the idea that we can really get along without her anywhere.”
“Why didn’t we think of that?” cried Kate. “If we’d asked her advice about a lot of things, and shaken our heads over the difficulties we should get into, with her out of our reach, she’d have been happy all day. Esther, you and I are a pair of stupids, but I’ll make it up to her yet.”