"Marie, my lass, you must not speak to your auntie Baby in that way," said old Hector, gravely. "It ill becomes one of your age to be so fretted."
Grandfather was the one person in the household of whom Marion stood in awe, and she subsided into a sulky silence, which she maintained till Alick came in with the letters.
"Any for me, Uncle Alick?" said Marion, jumping up.
"Not this time; but one from Christian, Baby, and post-marked New York. Bryant says Whitaker told him it came yesterday."
"From Christian! Then they have landed. Why, yes. This was written day before yesterday, and—Why, Alick!"
"Well, what?"
"Christian says, 'We shall leave here Friday night; and if all goes well, we shall be at home Saturday by the afternoon train.'"
"The afternoon train is in half an hour ago."
"I should not wonder if they had come already," said Baby. "They may be waiting down at the village this minute."
"I will hitch up and go down directly," said Alick. "They must think it very strange that nobody came to meet them. Don't you want to go, Marie?"