"Yep, bully," was the prompt reply. "Only there's Prue ain't here, you know."
As if as a sort of comment upon this remark, there was the sound of steps at the other end of the veranda, and a young woman in a bicycling suit came walking forward. There was a bright color on her face, but then she had been "biking," and it was warm.
Carolyn, as she saw Prudence, rose quickly, her own face growing red, a spark coming to her eyes.
Prudence came on, going straight to Mrs. Ffolliott.
"Dear aunty," she exclaimed, "I've wanted to see you so"—kiss—"that I finally decided I would come over"—kiss—"and I was sure you couldn't bear any malice after all this long while. You dear Aunt Tishy, you, you were always as much like a mother as my own mother herself; and then you didn't have rheumatism, either; so you were better-natured, you know."
Here the speaker laughed excitedly. She still held her aunt's hand in both her own. She did not seem, at this moment, to see her cousin, who was gazing steadily at her.
"You're not going to turn me out, are you, Aunt Tishy? You don't know how I've missed Savin Hill. It's more like home to me than any place in the world. You won't turn me out?"
In the bottom of her heart Mrs. Ffolliott was thankful for this diversion. She remembered, first, that time did not usually hang heavily where Prudence was; but then, immediately she remembered, secondly, that Prudence had run away with Carolyn's lover on the eve of their marriage; she had not forgotten that,—how could she? But—oh, dear, how complicated things were!
She now kissed her niece with an air of not knowing what she was doing, as indeed she hardly did know. Then she began by saying she was sure, she was very sure she was sure—and just here Leander dashed up and cried out that this was the jolliest thing that could happen, and he'd get his wheel, and they'd go down the east road, and he'd beat her all holler in no time.
"Perhaps you'll beat me, but you won't beat me holler, I'm positive," she responded.