"I'll explain. I was an old bachelor. Now, I am a young married man." They both laughed heartily.
"So the international combination has panned out, as we say in the States?"
"Worked like a charm from the start," said Thurston.
"Remarkable. And with your mother?"
"Mother has completely succumbed to Indiana, and spoils her shockingly."
"I'm very glad of that, I'm sure. I've been homesick ever since I saw you off with your bride, but I was really afraid to come home until the new wife had fitted into the new conditions."
"You don't know my Indiana. Wait until you see how well she fits into the new conditions." They heard the sound of carriage-wheels. Thurston hurried to the window, his face lighting up. "Here they are—here's my wife!"
Lord Stafford met them at the door of the library. "My dear sister!" folding her in his arms.
"Nelson, I'm very glad to have you at home, you wanderer! You look marvellously well, and tanned by the sun. Have you seen our dear little daughter? Where are you, Indiana?" Thurston had drawn her to the fire and was taking off her gloves.
"Here, dear Lady Canning," said Indiana demurely, with a strong effort at an English accent. "How do you do, Uncle Nelson?" She offered her cheek, which he kissed, then surveyed her with great curiosity. She looked the personification of English maidenhood, dressed in a plain, gray gown, without any pretension to style of cut. A little bonnet, tied under her chin, rested on her yellow puffs. She stood there, very demure and quiet, still holding her prayer-book.