He walked leisurely over to a solitary old carriage, climbed in, and directed the driver to take him to Mr. Van Brink’s. Then he leaned back carelessly, prepared to review the landscape, when the jolting old vehicle stopped. They were not yet out of sight of the station, from whence the natives were still watching his progress.
“Well, what’s wrong?” he asked the old driver. “Horse given out already?”
“Here ye be!” the driver answered dryly. “Here’s Van Brink’s!”
Tommy knew very well that he was being laughed at by the loungers at the station, as well as by the old driver, and he liked it no better than any one else would have liked it; but he was a genuinely good-natured sort of devil, and he grinned, in spite of a very real chagrin at so unimposing an arrival.
Having paid the driver lavishly, he walked along the little garden path before him, and up some steps to a little veranda. The door opened at once, and a hand reached for his bag.
“Come right in!” entreated a gentle young voice. “This way, please!”
The little house was cool and very dark, every shade pulled down, every shutter closed. Tommy followed the white dress that was ascending the stairs, and was presently led into a dim, breezy room, smelling of verbena.
The white dress flitted over to the window and threw open the shutters.
“There!” she said, looking back over her shoulder and smiling.
That smile! Tommy looked at her, enchanted.