Annis had hurried on her wrap, and now, catching up her satchel, turned to her sister, who was fastening her cloak, with “O Milly, make haste, and I’ll keep close behind you.”
“No, go on, child,” Mildred answered, gently pushing the little girl on before her.
Another minute and they were assisted from the car by their Uncle Dinsmore on one side and Cousin Horace on the other. There was Elsie too, waiting to give a welcoming embrace to each; and beside her Mr. Travilla, who had ridden over to meet his old friend, Charlie Landreth, and be introduced to his wife; for the mistress of Ion had so often sounded Mildred’s praises in her son’s ears that he was very desirous to meet the object of her encomiums.
Tired and travel-stained as she was, Mildred did not show to the best advantage, yet the beauty of form and feature, the intellectual and sweet countenance, seemed to him to fully justify his mother’s praises.
With joyous exclamations, “O Elsie, dear!” “O Annis, how glad I am you’ve come at last!” the little girls clasped each other in a warm embrace.
Greetings, introductions, and friendly inquiries exchanged all around, the travellers were speedily bestowed in Mr. Horace Dinsmore’s comfortable family carriage and driven away in the direction of the Oaks, their luggage following in a wagon.
Elsie was lifted to her saddle by her father’s strong arms, he vaulted to the back of his own larger steed, and the older Mr. Dinsmore and Mr. Travilla having mounted theirs, all four started at a gallop in pursuit of the carriage, which they presently distanced, exchanging smiling salutations with its occupants as they passed.
Elsie rode by her father’s side, the other two gentlemen a little in advance.
“You will go on to the Oaks with us, father? and you, Travilla?” Mr. Horace Dinsmore said with hospitable cordiality.
“Not to-night, Horace,” the old gentleman answered, “I’ll be over to-morrow, if nothing happens to prevent. I want a talk with Mildred, but she’s tired to-night and ought to retire early.”