"Oh, I'll see him soon. We can't escape each other very long in Hillsdale," she laughed.
"But, my child, it will only be a minute! You surely——"
Jeb, having entered by the front way, was now heard whistling as he came through the house, and the next moment he stepped out on the side veranda; then stopped, crying joyously:
"Marian!"
"Hello, Jeb," she said, advancing with a candor that belied the look Miss Sallie had surprised half a minute before.
"Oh, Jeb," Miss Veemie glided toward him, "I've been so worried for fear your gun had exploded and done something! Are you tired, dear?"
This adulation had been a daily occurrence in Jeb's life since he was four years old, when these adoring aunts had taken him beneath their roof. Usually he met it half way, but now, with an indifference that in a moment of less excitement would have been pronounced, he passed her and caught Marian's hand, crying:
"This is a surprise! Did you drop out of the trees?"
"That savors horribly of monkeys, Jeb," she laughed, quietly withdrawing her hand. "You used to do better!"
"I meant to ask how long since you dropped down from heaven, angel," he smiled. "My word, but you're looking fit! For a three times winner, you just about take the cake!"