“Oh, hush, dear!” Ina whispered. “Here comes Mr. Eastman.”
Young Frank Eastman, in his light summer clothes, came jauntily around the curve of the drive, his straw hat in hand, and the sisters fluttered to their feet to greet him. Then Eddy reappeared with the dime securely clutched, and inquired anxiously of Charlotte if she cared whether he bought soda or candy with it. Young Eastman ran after him down the walk and had a whispered conference. When the boy returned, which was speedily, he had a letter for his sister Ina and a box of the most extravagant candy which Banbridge afforded. The young people sat chatting and laughing and nibbling sweets until nearly ten o'clock. Then young Eastman took his leave.
He was rather desirous to be gone before Captain Carroll returned. Although Carroll always treated him with the most punctilious courtesy, even going out of his way to speak to him, the young man always felt a curious discomfort, as if he realized some covert disapprobation on the elder's part.
“They are late,” Ina said, after the caller's light coat had disappeared behind the shrubbery.
“I suppose they waited for the moon to rise,” Charlotte replied. “You know Amy dearly loves to drive by moonlight.”
“Well, let's go to bed, and not wait,” Ina said, with a yawn. “I'm so sleepy.” She had sat with her letter unopened in her lap all evening.
“All right,” assented Charlotte.
“I'm going to sit here till they come,” said Eddy.
“Very well,” said Charlotte, “but mind you don't stir off the porch.”
The two girls went up to their own rooms. They occupied adjoining ones. Charlotte slept in a small room out of the larger one which was Ina's.