“Nonsense! not at all! You are one of us! You are my son. And really, now, Eastworth, I want you to come.”
“A thousand thanks! I shall be too glad to do so! I accept your kindness as frankly as it is offered.”
“That is right. And now I will go home and tell Erminie to have fires lighted in your rooms, to air them comfortably for you against your arrival. She will be glad, I know. But—when shall we expect you? This evening, shall it not be?”
Colonel Eastworth hesitated, smiled, and then replied:
“This evening? Yes, if you please, if it will be convenient for you. There is really no reason on my part for delay.”
“Nor on mine! nor on Erminie’s! nor on the servants’; I do not wish to boast of our housekeeping, Eastworth, but I take pleasure in telling you that we are always prepared to receive our friends. And if to-night we should be surprised by the sudden inroad of a tribe of cousins as numerous as a Scotch clan, it could not put us out in the least. There, now! come when you like! Come home with me now, if you choose, and send a messenger to the hotel to direct your servants to pack up your property and follow you!” said the minister, cordially.
“Many thanks! but I must return to my room first. I will join you at your tea table.”
“Very well! Then I will expect you,” said the minister, as cordially as if he himself had received a favor.
They parted for a few hours. Colonel Eastworth, for many reasons deeply gratified with this project, returned to his hotel to prepare for his removal to his new quarters.
Dr. Rosenthal, pleased with the thought of giving pleasure to others, hastened home to inform his daughter of the plan and to get ready for his guest.