"Well, dear suz, what a funny place the world is," said Kat. "Here I've just hated that Roger Congreve, and now I could bless him forever, for being so good and kind, and after all, perhaps he'll be my brother, and Congreve Hall come back to us. I don't like it though," she added, with energy, "we're all getting broken up some way; it don't seem like old times, and I don't want any of us to get married! It's horrid, and I never will. Now Ernestine is home, I'd rather be poor all the days of my life, and have us all stay together, and never get old, or big."
"Very good, but 'buds will be roses, and kittens, cats,' as Jo says," answered Bea, going off with a laugh.
Ernestine was still too weak to see or say much this day. She had been much better on leaving Virginia, and as the trip home was taken in the most luxurious way afforded to travellers, she might have stood it very well, had it not been for the nervous excitement that completely prostrated her before home was reached. So Dr. Barnett prescribed the most perfect quiet, which was given, the girls only going in on tiptoe, now and then, to carry some little dainty, or smile their loving welcome, while Mrs. Dering spent all of her time at the bed side. Ernestine seemed perfectly content, for she lay for hours, with dreamy eyes fixed on Mrs. Dering's face, and never spoke or moved, as though she had been beaten and bruised by her brief struggle with the world, and only wanted to lie at peace, with one dear face in constant sight; and to let her tired life drift in or out. The change was heart-breaking, and drove the girls from her room at every visit, to hide their tears, and think, as in a dream, of the time when Ernestine, gay, frivolous, careless-hearted girl, was the sunshine of the house, the one being who seemed to never feel or know the touch of care or sadness.
Roger was to go back the second day, and on the evening before, he said:
"The scenery about this little place is perfectly beautiful. Does Canfield afford a livery stable, Olive? If so, I will get a buggy in the morning, and you shall pilot me around the country."
Kat sent an expressive wink and nod of her head to Kittie and Bea, while Olive answered:
"There is a small one, I believe, where you might find something."
"Perhaps they'd loan you their wheel-barrow," added Kat, who found herself in a fair way of liking this distant relative, in spite of his usurping what she termed the family position.
So next morning Roger went down town, and came back in a rather dilapidated buggy, with a lamb-like looking horse, and said with a laugh, as he helped Olive in:
"The very best your city affords; I hope it will not break with us, for my life is not insured."