"They certainly will have an opportunity of trying," said Anne. "But there is Dulcimer coming up the avenue with the letter-bag. Now, child, I don't believe you appreciate half my excellence, when you consider that I used to have all these letters that fall to you every mail."
At this moment Dulcimer rode up to the veranda steps, and deposited the letter-bag in Anne's hands.
"What an odd name you have given him!" said Nina, "and what a comical-looking fellow he is! He has a sort of waggish air that reminds me of a crow."
"Oh, Dulcimer don't belong to our régime," said Anne. "He was the prime minister and favorite under the former reign,—a sort of licensed court jester,—and to this day he hardly knows how to do anything but sing and dance; and so brother, who is for allowing the largest liberty to everybody, imposes on him only such general and light tasks as suit his roving nature. But there!" she said throwing a letter on Nina's lap, and at the same time breaking the seal of one directed to herself. "Ah, I thought so! You see, puss, Edward has some law business that takes him to this part of the state forthwith. Was ever such convenient law business? We may look for him to-night. Now there will be rejoicings! How now, Dulcimer? I thought you had gone," she said, looking up, and observing that personage still lingering in the shade of a tulip-tree near the veranda.
"Please, Miss Anne, is Master Clayton coming home to-night?"
"Yes, Dulcimer; so now go and spread the news; for that's what you want, I know."
And Dulcimer, needing no second suggestion, was out of sight in the shrubbery in a few moments.
"Now, I'll wager," said Anne, "that creature will get up something or other extraordinary for this evening."
"Such as what?" said Nina.
"Well, he is something of a troubadour, and I shouldn't wonder if he should be cudgelling his brain at this moment for a song. We shall have some kind of operatic performance, you may be sure."