As the parson rode up, dismounted, and tied his horse, Roma arose to meet him, shook hands with him cordially, and invited him into the house.
“No, my child, I will sit here, if you please. It is cooler. It is very pleasant out here,” he said, sinking into one of the Quaker chairs, drawing his handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his forehead.
Roma took his broad-brimmed felt hat into the hall and hung it up. Ceres, who was dusting the dining-room, she told to make a pitcher of iced lemonade and bring it out.
When she returned to the piazza she called Puck from the flower bed he was weeding and told him to take the doctor’s horse to the stable and attend to him there.
“Any fresh disturbance from that man, my child? For if there is, you know we will have to bind him over to keep the peace,” said Dr. Shaw, as soon as Roma had taken her seat beside him.
“Oh, no, thank heaven! But I have received letters from my relatives in Delfcome, urging me to come to them. I think of going; that is all. No, it is not all, either, by the way.”
“You think of going? How soon?”
“Just as soon as I get through some work I have set myself to do, by which time I hope you will be ready to take care of me on the voyage.”
“I?—oh, my dear child!”
“They expect you for August and September.”