"Good-morning, my girl," said Mr. Van Alstine, kindly; "I hope you are quite rested. You know all your brothers by this time, I suppose?"
"I don't believe she does," said Frank. "Well, then, this tall fellow at mother's left hand is Harry, the collegian, and I am Frank, at your service."
"Professor of roots and yarbs at the University of the Cannibal Islands," said one of the boys.
"Exactly," returned Frank, in perfect good-humour; "and this is Abraham, whom the unlettered and vulgar call Abe, but his family in deference to his feelings name him Abraham, and sometimes Bram; and there is Hector McGregor, and Robert Campbell, commonly called Rob Roy, for what reason I leave you to guess."
"And now that you have finished your introductions, my son, pass your sister's plate and help her to some potatoes," said his mother. "Rob, get Marion a napkin. I see Maggy has forgotten it."
"Where's Sally?" asked Rob, as he brought the napkin.
"She has gone over to the saw-mill to spend the day with her sister, who is sick."
The dinner proceeded with abundance of talking and laughing among the boys, but nothing that could be called rudeness. The boys were particularly attentive to her mother, especially Harry, who seemed to anticipate her every want. Certainly, there was nothing resembling the bear-garden Marion had pictured to herself. The appointments of the table were far more elegant than anything she had ever been accustomed to, and she was provoked at herself for being embarrassed with her large silver fork and for feeling shy before her stepfather.
She could not but own, as she looked around, that they were a handsome family. Mr. Van Alstine was a man of rather more than middle age, with black curling hair streaked with gray, hazel eyes, with a spark of red fire in them, as so often happens with hazel eyes, and a composed, somewhat commanding, but very pleasant manner. The elder boys were all like him, with black curls and dark eyes, and well-tanned faces; Robert alone had red hair and blue eyes—a real McGregor, Marion thought as she looked at him. He was ten years old, and Harry, the eldest, about twenty.
"Who is going over to the village to meet Cousin Helen?" asked Mr. Van Alstine, when dinner was nearly over. "Now, don't all speak at once."