When they came in sight of the house again a carriage stood before the front entrance.
“Ah! I thought we should have callers from Roselands to-day,” remarked Mr. Dinsmore.
“And from Ion too, papa,” said Elsie as a second carriage came into view.
“Yes, I see. Mrs. Travilla must be here; for her son never comes in that when alone.”
The Ion carriage had arrived first. It was more than an hour now since Mildred had been summoned to the drawing-room to meet the elderly lady she had learned to love so dearly in her former visit to this region of country.
They met in a close, tender embrace, followed by a long talk seated side by side and hand in hand on a sofa; while Rose entertained Mr. Travilla on the farther side of the spacious apartment.
Then Dr. Landreth came in from a walk, was greeted as an old friend, and the babies were brought from the nursery to be duly admired and caressed.
These last were still engrossing the attention of their elders when Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, from Roselands, and Miss Adelaide were announced.
Mrs. Dinsmore, as richly and gayly dressed as of yore, but looking still more faded and worn, especially in contrast to the fresh young beauty of her daughter, greeted Mildred with languid affection, nodded to the other occupants of the room, and sank into the depths of an easy-chair as if completely exhausted by the unusual exertion.
Mr. Dinsmore’s greeting was warm and hearty. “Glad, very glad to see you, Milly, my dear. Young and fresh still—as why shouldn’t you be?—but growing more like your mother; and that’s the highest compliment I could pay you or any one.”