“Oh, yes. I guess Tavia and I did about as well as the others.”
“Why didn’t Tavia come?” went on Roger.
“She is coming, later. You know she had to go home to Dalton first. Oh, how lovely The Cedars look! And there is daddy on the porch!”
Dorothy could scarcely remain in the cart as it rumbled along the shady drive that led to the broad veranda of Mrs. White’s handsome summer residence. Major Dale was waiting to greet his daughter, and Aunt Winnie came down the steps as the cart drove up.
“Isn’t she big!” exclaimed Roger, as the major folded Dorothy close in his arms in a most affectionate manner.
“My dear,” whispered Mrs. White, pressing upon Dorothy’s cheek a kiss of welcome. “You have grown!” and the glance that accompanied this simple remark spoke in more than words Mrs. White’s admiration for her pretty niece, and told Dorothy at once, that her Aunt Winnie was entirely satisfied with the particular lines that “her growth” had taken on.
“You all look so well, and I am so glad to be home again at last,” said Dorothy as soon as she had a chance to express her opinion. “It is perfectly fine here.”
“Here come the boys!” called Joe, who was just turning around on the long drive, preparatory to taking the cart to the stables, and presently Nat and Ned came bouncing up the steps.
Before Dorothy had a chance to protest both cousins were kissing her at once—Nat declaring he hadn’t kissed a girl since he left Dorothy after the automobile ride at Glenwood, and the while Ned was insisting that his “little brother” should await his turn and allow the head of the house the rights of his lawful inheritance.
Such jolly big boys as were Ned and Nat always have a way of making things both lively and interesting, especially when a pretty girl cousin is “up for entertaining” and, for the remainder of the afternoon, they entirely monopolized Dorothy, while Joe and Roger looked on, satisfied to hear their sister’s voice again. As for the major, he sat there perfectly content to see all his children about him once more, although it was a trifle odd to find Dorothy so grown up—almost a young lady. And it was so short a time ago that she would “climb all over him” when a little homecoming occurred. How she would fuss with his hair, and complain that no one had attended to his brushes or kept his neck-ties pressed during her absence.