Abby Ann obeyed, and the lady passed out into the front hall, and to the open door. A cascade of filmy lace and muslin floated from her shoulders and trailed across the shiny oil-cloth. As the last frill swept across the threshold, Mrs. Squires closed the door upon it with a sharp report.
Before the door a little girl was playing on the green slope, while an elderly woman with a grave, kindly face sat looking on.
Farmer Squires, summoned by his daughter, came round the corner of the house. He touched his straw hat awkwardly.
"They's a young feller," he said, "that lives a mile or so up the river, that has a tip-top team—a kivered kerridge an' a fust-rate young hoss. His folks has seen better days, the Grangers has, an' Rob is proud as Lucifer, but they's a big mortgage on the farm, an' he's 'mazin' ambitious ter pay it off. So when I told him about you, he said he'd see about it. He wouldn't let no woman drive his hoss, but he thought mebbe he'd drive ye round hisself. Shouldn't wonder if he was up to-night."
"I wish he might come," said the lady. "My physician said I must ride every day, and I am too cowardly to drive if the horse were ever so gentle."
"No—I guess you couldn't hold in Rob's colt with them wrists," said he, glancing admiringly at the slender, jewelled hands. "I shouldn't wonder if that was Rob now."
At this moment wheels were heard rapidly approaching, and a carriage appeared in sight. A young man was driving. He held the reins with firm hand, keeping his eyes fixed upon the fine-stepping animal, turned dexterously up the slope, brought the horse to a stand-still before the door, and sprang lightly to the ground.
He was a remarkable-looking young fellow, tall above the average, and finely proportioned. Hair and mustache were dark, eyes of an indescribable gray, and shaded by thick, black brows. A proud yet frank smile rested on his handsome face.
"Hello, Rob," said Farmer Squires. "Here's the lady that wanted ter see ye. Mister Granger, Mis' Jerome."
The lady bowed, with a trace of hauteur in her manner at first, but she looked with one of her slow glances into the young man's face, and then extended her hand, and the white fingers rested for an instant in his brown palm. Granger returned her greeting with a bow far from awkward, while a rich color surged into his sun-browned face.