They descended to the beautiful drawing-room, where, in the softened light, Sara was conscious of several figures; the madame, lovely in a Frenchy toilet, with a dash of scarlet here and there, rose to greet them, while the little group of black coats just beyond separated and turned, resolving itself into her host, Professor Grandet, and—Robert Glendenning!
The last named came forward with an eager movement, and Sara's heart stood still a minute, then plunged on with rapid beats, as he took her hand and bent over it with an earnest greeting. He looked well, as she quickly observed, having broadened into proportions better suited to his height, and his eyes seemed more brilliant than ever as they met her own.
"This is my surprise, Sara," laughed Mrs. Macon; "and you know," mischievously, "they are always happy ones. I think you have remarked it yourself."
But Sara only answered by a look: her words did not come readily just then.
"He have come last night," said the madame, beaming upon her nephew, "so that it was to all of us a surprise, for we have not expect him."
"Indeed! As if you could think, Aunt Felicie, that I would eat my
Thanksgiving turkey in a boarding-house, when"—
"Ah! but that is what you would then do, if our friends had not so kindly invite us here, Robare; are not your uncle and myself also in a boarding-house?" a reply which rather nonplussed the young man for a moment.
But, fortunately for his embarrassment, the domestic just then announced dinner, and Mrs. Macon said,—
"Henry, will you give your arm to madame? And you, Mr. Glendenning, to
Miss Olmstead; I will do myself the honor of walking in with Professor
Grandet; and I'm sure Morton will be happy to escort his better half, as
I suppose a twin sister may be called."
As they passed through the hall, Sara's escort said in a low tone,—