Mrs. Courtney did the honors, and Roy and Cecil, though accustomed to Kitty’s and Chloe’s culinary achievements all their lives, considered the supper the best they ever tasted.
Twilight came and the whistle of a departing train had scarcely died upon the air, when Norah, who had gone to the Dorton Station, was seen coming with her aunt. Hilda ran to the gate to meet them, and Mrs. Courtney received Mrs. Flynn kindly, introduced her to her employer, and asked Norah to take her to her room while Chloe prepared her supper.
Mrs. Courtney admired the neat-looking woman with the stamp of goodness in her face and felt satisfied that she was a suitable person to manage her brother’s household.
Hilda had never enjoyed an evening so thoroughly, as she flitted like a bird through the spacious rooms. She was now in the parlor listening to the cheerful conversation, now in the tea room with Mrs. Flynn and Norah, then in the kitchen where Chloe was putting all in order for the night, and Archie was resting in his chair.
“What’s to be done about him, honey?” asked Chloe in a whisper, nodding her gay turban toward the sleeper. “He’s gwine to stay all night, that’s certain; I knowed that as soon as he was done supper, ’cause he never sighted his ol’ hat and cane in the corner, but made straight back to his chair.”
“Will I ask Mrs. Courtney, Chloe?” whispered Hilda.
“Ax Marse Val, honey, ’cause the house is his’n now.”
Hilda returned to the parlor and stood beside Mr. Valentine Courtney until he finished something he was saying to Rev. Carl.
“Chloe wishes to know if Archie is to stay over night,” she said somewhat anxiously; “he does not say anything about going away.”
“Certainly he can stay,” replied Mr. Courtney. “Please tell Chloe to see that he has a comfortable bed,” and Hilda sped away, well pleased with her mission.