“Is the hotel a success?” asked Mrs. Ashford.
“First-rate. Full all last summer, and Dutton expects a lot of folks this season. A big party came up t'other day.”
They had a chance to see the guests at the hotel, ladies on the piazzas and children playing in the green yard, while Hiram stopped to do an errand at the store, which was also the postoffice.
Nearly another mile of up-hill brought them to their destination—a brown farmhouse with its red barns and granaries standing in the midst of smiling fields and patches of cool, dark woods, while in the distance rose grand, solemn mountains.
There was Evaline, seated on the low gatepost, and Mrs. Stokes and her grownup daughter, Almira, in the doorway, all on the lookout and ready to wave their handkerchiefs the moment the wagon appeared.
“It's more like going to see some cousins or something than being summer-boarders, isn't it, mamma?” said Marty.
“Here we all are, Mrs. Stokes!” cried Mrs. Ashford from the wagon. “Quite an addition to your family.”
“The more the merrier! I'm right down glad to see you,” said good-natured Mrs. Stokes, coming to lift the children down and kissing them heartily.
The travellers were very tired after their long day's journey. Mrs. Ashford and Marty were ready to do justice to the good supper provided, but Freddie was only able to keep his eyes open long enough to eat a little bread and milk. The next morning, however, he was as bright as a button, and took to country life so naturally that he was out in the yard feeding the chickens before his mother knew what he was about.