When Pete had done his office with the European gatherings of the party the ancient carriage looked like a van, and there was scant room inside for three passengers.
"That means us for old Longfellow and the buggy," said Tom to Ardea. "Do you mind? Longfellow is fearfully and wonderfully slow, same as ever, but he's reasonably sure."
"Any way," said Ardea; so he put her into the buggy and they drew in behind the carriage. Before they were half-way to the iron-works they had the pike to themselves, and Tom was not urging the leisurely horse.
"My land! but it's good for tired eyes to have another sight of you!" he declared, applying the remedy till she laughed and blushed a little. Then: "It has been a full month of Sundays. Do you realize that?"
"Since we saw each other? It has been much longer than that, hasn't it?"
"Not so very much. I saw you in New York the day you sailed."
"You did! Where was I?"
"You had just come down in the elevator at the hotel with your grandfather and Miss Euphrasia."
"And you wouldn't stop to speak to us? I think that was simply barbarous!"
"Wasn't it?" he laughed. "But the time was horribly unpropitious."