"Oh, dear! I wish you didn't have to go," she sighed. "We have been together all the time for weeks past and now I hardly know how I can do without you."
"Suppose you come along then. There is plenty of room in the carriage, and in the office, and I could find you something to read, or some work on the typewriter, if you prefer that."
"Any time that I am needed there I shall be ready to go," she returned with merry look and tone; "but to-day I have matters to attend to about the house, and perhaps father and Mamma Vi may want some little assistance from me in their preparations for to-night."
"Yes, I daresay. What a round of parties we are likely to have to go through as part of the penalty for venturing into the state of matrimony."
"Yes," laughed Lucilla, "but I hope you think it pays."
"Most assuredly. But now good-bye, dearest, for some hours—when we shall have the pleasure of meeting to atone to us for the present pain of parting." Lucilla followed him to the veranda, where they exchanged a parting caress, then watched as he entered the carriage and it drove swiftly through the grounds and out into the highway. Her eyes were still following it when a pleasant, manly voice near at hand said "Good morning Mrs. Dinsmore."
She turned quickly and sprang down the steps to meet the speaker.
"Father, dear father!" she cried, springing into his outstretched arms, and putting hers about his neck, "Oh, how glad I am to see you! How good in you to come! Chester has just done eating his breakfast and gone off to his business, and I haven't quite finished my meal. Wont you come in and eat with me?"
"Ah, that would hardly do, daughter," was the smiling reply. "You know I am expected to take that meal with wife and children at Woodburn. But I will go in with you and we will have a chat while you finish your breakfast."
"And you can take a cup of coffee and a little fruit, can't you, father?"