“There’s no use in wishing that, my dear,” remarked her mother. “God, in His wisdom, orders all things for the best.” She glanced about the richly furnished room with a satisfied smile.
Edith was about to reply, when the afternoon stillness was broken by the sound of wheels upon the gravel road, accompanied by the honk of an automobile horn. She hurried to the door, and, as she did so, Alice appeared, accompanied by a heavily built young fellow in blue serge, carrying a suit-case. Mrs. Pope rose.
“Well, mother, we’re here at last,” cried Alice. “The train was fifteen minutes late.” She turned to the man behind her. “Mother, you know Mr. Hall.”
“My dear Mr. Hall, I’m so glad to see you!” said Mrs. Pope effusively, as she offered the newcomer her hand.
Mr. Hall shook hands. He was a genial, whole-souled sort of a fellow, and, as he turned to acknowledge his introduction to Edith, she felt an instinctive liking for him. He was telling Mrs. Pope how glad he felt to be East again, after six nights in a sleeping-car.
“Yes,” he rattled on, in his breezy way, “I’ve come all the way from ’Frisco. We’re building some docks there. Ever been in ’Frisco, Mrs. Rogers?”
“No,” replied Edith, “though I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Great place. Nothing like it this side of the Rockies. Wide-open town, I can tell you.”