When Owen at last arrived it was with an inward glee that Toni heard the clock strike six; for now his visit must of necessity be short.
Possibly Owen saw her pallor, for he announced almost at once that although he regretted the fact, he must carry off his wife without delay; and after a brief interchange of courtesies, the family escorted Toni to the car, whose glories most of them now beheld for the first time.
As Owen was still unable to drive, he took his seat by Toni in the body of the car; and when they were safely away Toni turned to him with a sigh of pleasure.
"Owen, I thought you were never coming."
"Was I very long?" Owen was struck by her tone. "What's the matter, Toni? Are you tired, dear, or have the cousins been too much for you?"
"Oh, no, not exactly," Toni was always loyal, but to-day her loyalty had been severely tried. "But I can't help comparing the house with Greenriver, and I was longing all the time to get back to the garden and the big rooms."
Owen did not smile at her naïve confession.
"You like your home, Toni? Greenriver pleases you?"
"I think it's the loveliest house in the world," Toni said fervently. "And sometimes I can hardly believe it is I who live there. You see, all my life I have been used to little houses, and it seems almost incredible that I should have the right to go about as I like—and even pick the flowers in the garden."
"Poor little Toni." Her gratitude touched Owen. "Sometimes I have fancied you found it rather dull. I have been obliged to leave you so much alone lately; but now we can have a holiday until the book's fate is decided."