"That's the Continental custom, my dear," Miss Daphne murmured.
"Oh, dear, I wish they'd do it here still," Kit said. "It makes one think of powdered hair and lovely, flouncy hoop skirts. I'm going to practice it when I get home."
It was not until they took the through train from Washington for New London that Kit relaxed. It was the last home stretch, and now that the end of the journey drew near, the full importance of the Dean's visit at such a time grew upon her. The little hint she had given about the guest chamber being ready was the only thing that would have made the family suspect she was bringing any guests with her. Not a word had been sent to notify them of their arrival, but the last two hours in Washington had been given up to the purchasing of gifts, and Kit had looked positively dazed when the Dean handed her twenty-five dollars with the remark:
"You'll want to buy a few little things too, my dear."
A few little things. Kit wondered if he had any idea at all of how little cash had figured in the purchasing of home gifts at Greenacres the past two years.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DEAN SEES THE STAR
They arrived at Nantic a little past noon, after leaving Washington on the midnight express. There was no stop-over at New York in the morning, the train going straight through to New England, and here they found the first snowstorm.
"There are the old gray rock walls, bless them," exclaimed the Dean, delightedly, "and the evergreens. The west may keep its towering white pines, but give me the old hemlocks and junipers, with the birches and oaks behind them."