"I don't see any stack," said Marion, looking out. "I see the top of what looks like an iron chimney."
"Yes, that is what he means, the smoke-stack of the factory. We shall soon be at the house, and then you will see what a lot of brothers you have," added Frank, laughingly. "Mother would let nobody come but Harry and me, because she said you were not used to boys, and would be frightened. Hallo, there's Hector looking out. Open the gate, will you, old fellow!"
Another black-haired boy, who was evidently on the watch, swung open the gate, and then ran into the house. Frank turned into a carriage road and drew up at the side door of a large house with brightly-lighted windows. The door was open and the hall seemed crowded with people; a tall, dark-bearded man came forward to help her out, and her mother stood on the verandah.
"Gently, boys, don't all speak at once! Let mother have the first chance," said Mr. Van Alstine, shaking Marion by the hand and kissing her cheek. "Marion, my girl, you are welcome home!"
In the course of five minutes Marion had shaken hands with what seemed to her agitated senses at least a dozen of boys, and was carried forward into a large and light dining-room handsomely furnished and with the table spread for supper. But she could eat hardly a mouthful of the dainty meal set before her. It seemed as if she had come away from all her old life into a new world. A sudden feeling of forlorn homesickness came over her, and, greatly to her own disgust, she burst into a fit of hysterical tears.
"You are so tired, poor child!" said her mother tenderly. "You shall go straight to bed and not see another soul to-night. Run up before, Hector; shut the blinds in sister's room and light the lamp. Come, Marie dear—they call you 'Marie,' I suppose. You shall go to bed and have a good long sleep, and you will be all right in the morning. See, this is your room, and I hope you will like it."
Marion tried to check her tears enough to murmur that it was very nice, but she really was tired out and hardly noticed anything save that the bed was delightfully soft and comfortable.
"Don't hurry in the morning; I will call you in time," said her mother, kissing her. "You will hear the whistle at five, but you need not move. Good-night, my love. I hope you will sleep well and be quite refreshed in the morning. Good-night."
[CHAPTER XIII.]
HEMLOCK VALLEY.