“Almost ready to start for it, grandpa,” Harold replied with a joyous laugh. Then turning to his mother, “Mamma, I have a request to make, and I do not think you or grandpa will object to its being granted.”
“Not if it is anything reasonable, my dear boy,” she returned. “Are you desirous to invite some friend to accompany us to Ion?”
“Ah, mother mine,” he laughed, “you certainly are good at guessing. Yes, I should like to give a warm invitation from grandpa, you, and ourselves to a classmate whose home is closed at present, his parents being in Europe for the health of his mother, who is a sad invalid. William Croly is his name—Will we call him—and he is as good, bright, and lovable a fellow as could be found anywhere.”
“He is indeed, mamma,” said Herbert. “I esteem him as highly as Harold does.”
“Then I think he will be a very welcome guest at Ion,” Mrs. Travilla returned with a look of inquiry at her father, as if she would consult his wishes as well as her own and those of her sons.
“I should ask him by all means,” said Mr. Dinsmore. “I judge from the recommendation just given that he will prove a pleasant guest; besides, the Bible bids us ‘use hospitality without grudging.’”
“And that is one thing I am sure you and mother love to do, grandpa,” returned Herbert, giving a look of affectionate admiration to first one, then the other.
“Yes, it is a great pleasure, therefore hardly meritorious,” his grandfather said with a smile.
“Then I may bring Croly and introduce him, may I not?” asked Harold.