“I brought the Concord wagon for the women folks and the light spring wagon for the boys and Tisha,” said Mr. Darrell. “The Concord holds six people well, and at a pinch, eight. The light wagon the same; so you don't have to have any extra conveyances.”
“No, father, I have not hired any,” Clarence replied, and exchanging a look with his brothers, said that everything was ready to start, and all walked down stairs.
In front of the ladies' entrance was a very handsome carriage which Mrs. Darrell and her daughters had admired very much on board the steamer; next to it was a pretty phæton which they also had admired, and behind the phæton was Mr. Darrell's Concord. He frowned and said:
“There was no use in hiring those carriages, Clarence.”
“Count noses, father,” said Clarence, going about busily carrying parcels to the carriages assisted by his brothers, allowing no time for discussion—“Let us see. Mother and father in the back seat; Jane and Lucy in the front, Clementina with Everett, the driver. In the phæton I will take Alice, her lap dog and our two satchels, and last but not least, Webster will take ‘the Concord’ with Willie in the front seat and Tisha in the back in state, with the cockatoos and canaries and parcels,” said Clarence, patting Tisha on the back.
All laughed, approving the disposition of forces.
“Are these carriages ours, Clary?” asked Clementine.
“It looks like it,” said Clarence, lifting her to her place, “and you shall see how soon the phæton distances the big carriage.”
CHAPTER VIII.—Victoriano and His Sister.
The golden rays of a setting sun were vanishing in the west, and a silvered moon was rising serenely over the eastern hills, when the phæton, having distanced the other carriages by a full half hour, reached the foot of the low hill where the Alamar house stood. The French windows opening upon the front veranda, sent broad streams of light across the garden and far over the hill. Sounds of music greeted Alice and Clarence on their arrival. He checked his horses saying: