“Now it’s my turn, papa,” Elsie said in a merry tone, holding up her face so bright, loving, and winsome that it would have taken a very cold and unresponsive nature to refuse her invitation.
Her father did not, though he said laughingly as he bestowed the caress, “As if you had not had half a dozen more or less already this morning! Well, what success?” with a kindly glance at Annis.
“Oh, I had to coax her, papa, but she will if Cousin Milly will.”
“Ah, is that it? Well, leave Mildred to me.”
“No, sir,” exclaimed Dr. Landreth’s voice in his rear, “it can’t be done! Mildred belongs to me.”
“Ah, good-morning to you both!” said Mr. Dinsmore, turning at the sound to find the doctor and his wife both there. “I’ve no idea of interfering with your claims, sir; one wife’s enough for me to manage,” with a merry glance at Rose, who entered at that moment by another door.
“A trifle too much sometimes if the truth were told; isn’t she?” Rose retorted as she took her place at the head of the table, the others seating themselves at the same time.
“My dear, you should never tell tales out of school,” said Mr. Dinsmore.
There was a general laugh, then a moment’s pause for all to recover their gravity, and he asked a blessing on the food.
At the first opportunity Mildred remarked, “You have roused my curiosity, Cousin Horace, and I think are bound to gratify it. In regard to what am I to be left to you?”