"I am so glad to hear that two of his plays are going to be staged. That's splendid, isn't it?"
"He is coming back to Dinwiddie because of it. Now that he is assured of recognition, he says he is going to devote all his time to writing. Poor fellow, he did so hate the work out at Matoaca City, though I must say he was very faithful and persevering about it."
"You've taken that little house in Prince Street for them, where old Miss Franklin used to live, haven't you? The last time I saw you, you hadn't quite decided about it."
"I couldn't resist it because it is only three squares from the rectory. Mr. Pendleton set his heart on it from the first minute."
"Well, I'm so glad," said Susan, shifting the small basket of fruit she carried from one arm to the other, "and I'll certainly run in and see them this evening—I suppose they'll be at the rectory for supper?"
"Why, no. Jinny said she couldn't bear to be away from the children the first night, so we are all going there. I shall send Docia over to cook supper before they get here, and I've just been to market to see if I could find anything that Oliver would particularly like. He used to be so fond of sweetbreads."
"Mr. Dewlap has some very nice ones. I got one for mother. She hasn't been well for the last few days."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Give her my love and tell her I'll come down just as soon as I get Jinny settled. I've been so taken up getting the house ready that I haven't thought of another thing for three weeks."
"When will Oliver's play be put on in New York?" asked Susan, turning back after they had parted.
"In three weeks. He is going back again for the last rehearsals. I wish Jinny could go with him, but I don't believe she would spend a night away from the children for anything on earth."