"Oh, but I did not want her to have such a welcome. She will think we are all crazy down here," protested Peggy.
"Well, if she think FIVE thoroughbreds tu'ned out fer ter welcome her stan fer crazy folks she gwine start out wid a mistake. Dem hawses gwine mind yo' an' mak' a showin' she ain' gwine see eve'y day of her life lemme tell yo'."
But there was no time to discuss the point further, for Silver Star and Roy came bounding up on a dead run, manes and tails waving, and with the maddest demonstrations of joy at having won out in their determination NOT to be left behind. They rushed to Peggy's side, whinnying their "Hello! How are you?" to Shashai, who answered with quite as much abandon. And then came the transformation: At a word from Peggy they fell into stride beside her and finished the journey to the little depot in as orderly a manner as perfectly trained dogs. When they reached it Peggy stationed them in line, and slipping from Shashai's back ordered Tzaritza to "guard." Then she stepped upon the platform to meet the incoming car, just as little less than a year before she had stepped upon it to welcome the ones whom during that year she had learned to love so dearly, and who had so completely altered her outlook upon life, and who were destined to change and—yes—save her future, just as surely as the one now momentarily drawing nearer and nearer was destined to bring a crisis into it.
The car came buzzing up to the station. There was a flutter of drapery, as a lady with a white French poodle, snapping and snarling at the world at large, and the brakeman in particular, into whose arms it was thrust, descended from the steps.
"Handle Toinette carefully. Dear me, you are crushing her, the poor darling. Here, porter, take this suitcase," were the commands issued.
"I ain't no po'tah," retorted the negro who had been singled out by
Madam. Then he turned and walked off.
"Insolent creature," was the sharp retort, which might have been followed by other comments had not Peggy at that moment advanced to meet her aunt. When the negro saw that the new arrival was a friend of the little lady of Severndale his whole attitude changed in a flash. Doffing his cap he ran toward her saying:
"I looks after it fo' YO', Miss Peggy." The accent upon the pronoun was significant.
"Thank you, Sam," was the quick, smiling answer. Then:
"How do you do, Aunt Katharine? Welcome to Severndale," and her hand was extended to welcome her relative, for Peggy's instincts were rarely at fault.