This made them all laugh, and Mr. Murray beamed down on the little group with a broad smile of welcome. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a lean, tanned face, and eyes that twinkled out at the world from under shaggy brows.
“We’re mighty pleased to see you up in this corner of the land,” he said, heartily. “Where’s Jeanie, Peg? Whoa, there, Clip. Don, lad, put the suit-cases under the seats.”
“They’re both of them talking to the boys with Jim, father,” Peggie declared. “Jean’s holding a reception of honor.”
“She always does,” replied her father comfortably, lifting in the baggage himself. “She has the ‘come hither’ in her eye. Like this lass.” He smiled down on Polly’s eager, upturned face. “You needn’t blush over it, either, for it’s nothing one can be acquiring, nor can one say ‘shall one have it, or not.’ It’s born in some. Where I came from, in the north isles, they call it the kiss o’ the sun. Don, will you be coming soon?”
“He’s shy of the girls, maybe,” Peggie said merrily.
But just then Jean and Don, her youngest brother, came towards them. He was about fifteen, this tall, overgrown brother of hers, with a boyish, tanned face, and bright blue eyes. And Jean, knowing how embarrassed he was before this group of smiling Eastern girls, introduced him with a general motion of her hand.
“Girls, this is Don.”
“Are you all dressed warmly enough for the drive?” asked Mr. Murray. “There are blankets in the back of the wagons if we need them. It gets pretty cool as we go higher into the hills after dark. Your mother put in a lot of stuff to eat, Jeanie. She thought maybe you’d all be starved out by the time you got here. I had hard work keeping it for you, though. We left home about eight this morning, and Don and Peg almost finished it.”
“Don’t you believe him, Jeanie,” Peggie protested. “We had our own lunch.”
“Wasn’t it thoughtful and dear of mother to remember lunch?” Jean said. “Indeed, we will enjoy it. I am the only one who brought a trunk along, father. Can we take that with us, now?”