“Ah, you really seem to know and approve of your grandpa,” he said laughingly. “Evelyn, my dear, she’s a darling, a pretty little pet.”
“So Max and I think, father,” returned the happy young mother.
“And so, I think I may say, do we all,” said old Mr. Dinsmore. “I should not at all object to counting her among my great-great-grandchildren.”
“Nor would we to having you do so, sir,” said Max, coloring and smiling with pleasure, for he was very proud of his little daughter and glad to have her admired by others.
“I am proud and fond of the little dear, call myself her uncle now, and hope to be really such one of these days,” laughed Harold.
“We all hope so,” said Max, “and have no objection to your claiming that relationship at once.”
There had been some alterations and improvements made in house and grounds since the Dolphin and her passengers started on that winter trip, and presently most of the company went about viewing them, and that with entire satisfaction and approval.
But the sun was now nearing the horizon, and the Woodburn and Sunnyside folk were growing eager to see and rest in their own loved and comfortable homes. The carriages were brought up, the adieus said, and they went on their way rejoicing. Each family went to its own dwelling at first, but they would not be long apart; that evening would see them all gathered, first at one residence, then at the other, and there would never be a day that would not be spent more or less in each other’s society. This would be true of all excepting Max, who must soon return to his ship. The thought of that was all that marred the happiness of that evening, with its joyful return to their own loved homes. But Evelyn and all of them tried to put away remembrance of it for the present.