FAREWELL.
The days that followed were merry ones at Fernley House. Mr. Montfort insisted on treating both the young Cubans as his nephews, and found them, as he said, very pleasant lads. Carlos had something of Rita's fire, but with it a good share of common sense that kept him from folly. Fernando was a mild and gentle youth, with nothing passionate about him save his moustache, which curled with ferocity. His large, dark eyes were soft and melting, his smile pleased and apologetic; but Rita persisted in considering him a fire-eater of the most incendiary type, and enjoyed this view so much that no one had the heart to undeceive her. Altogether, the two lads made a charming addition to the party, and no one was in a hurry to break it up. Rita was to return to Cuba with her brother, but Carlos showed a most thoughtful unwillingness to hasten his sister's departure. Peggy's flaxen hair and blue eyes had been a revelation to the young man, accustomed to dark beauties all his life, and he found "Cosine Paygi" a charming companion. They were excellent friends, and when Rita and Fernando sighed and rolled their eyes (as they were very fond of doing), Peggy and Carlos laughed.
Margaret was still kept a little quiet by her hands, though the blisters were rapidly healing. The other four scampered here and there, playing hide and seek in the house, straying through the garden, dancing, singing, from morning to night. Margaret was always at hand to welcome them when they came in, to listen and laugh, or sympathise, as the case might demand. She was happy, too, in her own way, but she found herself wondering, as she had wondered before, whether she were seventeen or thirty-seven, and there was no doubt in her mind that Uncle John was nearer her in age than any of the others. Her heart was full of quiet happiness, for this dear uncle had asked her if she would stay with him, would make her home here at Fernley with him and Aunt Faith. She felt as if nothing in the world could have given her such happiness, and she shook her head, smiling, at Rita's violent protestations that she must come to Cuba, and at Peggy's equally earnest prayers that she would come out with her to the Ranch.
"Some day!" was all she could be brought to say, when her cousins hung about her with affection whose sincerity she could not doubt.
"Some day, dear girls, when Uncle John can come with me. As long as he needs me here, here I stay!"
And Peggy would pout and shake her shoulders, and Rita would fling away and call her an iceberg, a snow-queen, with marble for a heart; and two minutes after they would both be waltzing through the hall like wild creatures, calling on Margaret to observe how beautifully the boys were learning the new step.
The young men had been taken to visit Mrs. Cheriton, and came away so deeply smitten that they could talk of nothing else for some time. Rita and Peggy opened their young eyes very wide when Carlos declared she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and Fernando responded with fervour:
"She eess a godess! the wairld contains not of soche."
But the goddess could not dance, nor play "I spy!" and the girls soon had it their own way again.
And so the day came when the dancing and playing must stop. The day came, and the hour came; and a group, half sad, half joyful, was gathered on the stone veranda, while White Eagle stood ready at the foot of the steps, with William, waiting to drive the four travellers to the ferry. Four; for Peggy was to be met in New York by a friend and neighbour of her father's who was to take her home.