The heiress of McGregor

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"To be sure you may, my bonny man," said Hector McGregor, overhearing the whisper; "I shall be proud of such a family of fine lads and lasses."

"And are the aunts and uncles ours too?" pursued Dotty, who liked to have everything explained.

"You may call them so, my dear."

Gerty and Asahel had promised to spend Thanksgiving with some of Gerty's friends. Their absence was borne with resignation. Everybody was sorry to miss Asahel, but Gerty was not a pleasant element in the family party, and in fact was apt to be the "gravel in the pudding," as grandfather would have said.

All the rest agreed admirably. The Campbells and Mrs. Andrews met like old friends, for she had worked in Persia, while the Campbells had been in Syria and Turkey. They had once spent a few hours together in Constantinople and knew many of the same people. Any one who has witnessed a similar meeting can guess at the kind of conversation which took place.

Doctor Campbell was at once claimed as their own special property by the middle boys, introduced to their precious collections of plants, stones, and woods, and taken into counsel as to the best method of arrangement. The doctor liked nothing better, and not only entered into the subject zealously, but contributed some valuable specimens to the cabinet and promised more.

For a while Aunt Baby could think of nothing but her thin, pale-faced, languid darling, so changed from the bright, rosy girl she had sent away six months before. The rest of the family thought Marion looked much better, as indeed she was, but to Aunt Baby's eyes she seemed passing rapidly away to the silent land.

"But she really is a great deal better, Baby," said Eiley, beginning to feel as if she had not been anxious enough about Marion. "She comes to tea every day now, and often to dinner, and she is able to do a great deal more than she was. If you had seen her a month ago, you would appreciate the difference."

But Aunt Baby had not seen her a month ago, and could hardly think that Marion was able to have all those great boys and that bouncing lass Betsy in and out of her room all day long. She seemed to feel Betsy's red cheeks an affront by the side of Marion's pale ones and to resent the activity of her motions, whilst Marion was confined to a cautious progress from her room to the dining-room or from one sofa to another.

Thanksgiving was always a great day at the valley. The week before, all the turkeys in the neighbourhood were bought up by Van Alstine & Overbeck. A carload, more or less, of raisins, apples, and canned peaches came up from New York, and the morning before the feast there was a solemn distribution to all the factory, saw-mill, and farm hands of all these good things. The peaches were always greeted with great enthusiasm, for, whatever else grew in Hemlock Valley, peaches obstinately refused to flourish.