“Never mind, papa’s dear little girl,” the captain said, lifting her into her chair again; “we may hope to see dear brother Max here one of these days; and then how glad we shall all be!”
“Oh, yes, papa; please write Maxie a letter and tell him Elsie wants him to come soon,” she said, smiling through her tears.
The moment family worship was over, Marian, Lulu, and Grace hastened to the school-room, where they were joined a few minutes later by Evelyn Leland, Rosie and Walter Travilla. The lessons had all been thoroughly prepared, so that recitations proceeded rapidly, and by eleven o’clock all were dismissed with permission to spend the remainder of the day in such sports as suited their inclination.
The guests had already begun to arrive, and directly the most of them were scattered through the beautiful grounds exploring every nook and corner of them. Then games were played—lawn tennis, croquet, and others suited to different ages and tastes. A grand dinner followed in due season, after which they sat on the verandas or under the trees or wandered slowly through the wood and the shaded alleys.
Tea was over, the sun near his setting, and somewhat weary with their sports almost all were seated in or near the verandas, when the sound of a bugle broke the stillness, coming apparently from the wood where a number of the young people had been straying only a half-hour before.
“There he is again!” cried Croly, starting to his feet. “Harold, suppose we hurry out yonder and see if we can catch sight of the fellow.”
“Oh, not yet,” said Grandma Elsie; “let us enjoy his music for a little first. Hark! he is beginning the Star-spangled Banner.”
“Very well done,” commented Mr. Dinsmore as the last notes died away on the air. Croly looked at Harold and half rose from his chair; but the bugler began again. This time it was a Scottish air, and Marian absently, and scarcely above her breath, sang the words:
“‘Scots wha’ hae wi Wallace bled,
Scots whom Bruce hath often led,