Before any of them could speak, however, a joyous whoop was heard from another quarter. Hugh had been investigating an old nest, and had just caught sight of the friends from Pumpkin House. He came running now, his face alight with welcome.
"Oh, Jerry! How do you do? How do you do, Phil? I am very well, thank you! Do you know my Jack? Because he has come home; and he is almost the dearest person in the world. And he has grown up his own beanstalk, he says, and that is what makes him so tall. And he has brought me the most beautiful soldiers that ever were, and we are going to have battles, even the prancings, the prancings of their mighty ones! Hurrah!"
"Hurrah it is!" said Jack. "How d'ye do?" And he held out his hand cordially enough. "Awfully good of you to bring the skates! Come in, won't you, and see my father and my uncle?"
"Didn't know whether you liked Acmes or Clubs," said Gerald, "so I brought both. Clubs are the best, we all think."
"So do I! These are just right, I think. Awfully good of you, I'm sure! You ought to see the things they wear in Germany; like the old ones Uncle Tom has hanging up in that trophy in the hall."
Chatting cheerfully, they moved on towards the house, taking note of one another as they went. Jack found the tones of the boys' voices very clear and good, free from any nasal quality; Phil and Gerald decided that there must be a good deal of muscle in those long, lean arms, and that it would not be so easy to "lick" the stranger as they had thought on first seeing him.
On Phil's remarking that his sisters and the "kids" had gone across the fields to the pond, there to await the rest of the party, Jack said he would be ready in three minutes, and ushered them into the library, where the two reunited brothers were peacefully smoking together. The Colonel received the boys most cordially, and, while Jack hurried away to put on jersey and knickerbockers, presented them to "My brother Raymond. Jack's father, young gentlemen! I trust you and my nephew Jack will be friends. The young should be friendly,—eh, Raymond? My brother Raymond, boys, is a man of genius. He is probably studying the lines of a fiddle at this moment,—an imaginary fiddle, you understand,—and I doubt if he is aware of your presence, or of one word I have been saying."
"Not quite so bad as that, Tom!" said Mr. Ferrers, holding out his hand to the boys, with the peculiarly sweet smile that won all hearts to him at the first glance, "not quite so bad as that. I am delighted to see you, young gentlemen. I have already heard a good deal about your cheerful circle here. I am, it is true, somewhat absent-minded,—"
"Absent-minded! Jupiter Capitolinus! When it comes to a man putting sugar and cream on his mutton-chop at breakfast,—"
"How do you know that I do not prefer it so, Tom? We have many curious customs in Virginia, you know. It wasn't bad, really!"