“That’s too bad! It’s my nephew—Lansing Lansing,” he went on to Sidney, “the last of the Lansings.”
“He’s coming over to-night,” said Mabella.
“You’ll see him then; there are only four Lansings left now. An old man, a young one, and two girls. Well, it’s a good old stock and that’s plenty for a fresh graft. Well, well! How’s Miss’ Ranger feeling, girls? Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes—quite. She’s more cheerful,” said Vashti. “Shall we get ready?”
“Yes.” Then turning to Sidney: “Where did you say your things were?”
Sidney had no time for explanations up to this moment.
“I’ve been staying at Brixton,” he said; “and this afternoon I thought I would come over and ask when I might come, as you had been so good as to invite me; so I came by train from Brixton, and walked to Lansing Farm, and there I saw a lady who directed me here.”
“Temperance,” said the two girls, and looked at each other.
“She gave me some delightful milk and her opinion of boarders,” said Sidney, smiling.