“Yes, you can; the same way that I am,” said Zoe. “Marry a man with plenty of brothers and sisters, and you’ll likely find it easy enough.”
“Oh, here they come at last!” cried Rosie, “they’re just turning in at the gates. It’s Max that’s with them, not the captain. I never can remember to call him brother, as he wants me to.”
“Somehow they don’t seem a very gay party,” remarked Evelyn as the trio drew near, “they don’t call to us, or wave their hands or any thing.”
“No,” said Zoe, examining them critically through an opera glass, “there is something dejected in the droop of their figures, and the girls have certainly been crying. Can it be that they are so distressed over the new arrival?”
“No, I am sure not,” exclaimed Eva. “How could they? a baby is the sweetest thing in the world, I think!”
“So do I,” said Zoe. “And Max and Grace were delighted when little Elsie was born.”
“And Lu, I am sure, loves her dearly now,” said Rosie. “No, it can’t be that. Oh,” with sudden affright, “what if Vi is very ill!” and she ran hastily down the steps just as the ponies were reined in beside them.
“What’s the matter?” she asked breathlessly, “why are you so late? and what have you been crying about? Oh, don’t tell me that—that any thing is very wrong with Vi!”
“No; the doctor says she’s doing well,” replied Max, alighting and beginning to assist the now bitterly sobbing Grace from the saddle.
Lulu slipped easily from hers to the ground. “It’s papa,” she said tremulously, and with streaming eyes, “Thunderer threw him, and he’s badly hurt. We’re not going to stay; we want to nurse him ourselves; but he said we must come and tell you all about it, and then we could come back.”