"Not terribly," her uncle replied, and seizing the hand he drew her to him and gave her the kiss of friendship and good-fellowship.
Rosalind was fastidious about kisses. She reserved them for those she loved, and received them shrinkingly from those she did not care for; but in this short interview she had found a friend, and she returned the caress with an ardor of affection pretty to see.
Martin, announcing lunch, interrupted their talk, and, hand in hand, Rosalind and her new comrade walked to the house. In the exuberance of her content, she patted one of the griffins as she passed. Her uncle observed it.
"Have you ever noticed the resemblance between Uncle Allan Barnwell and the griffins?" he asked.
The idea amused Rosalind greatly, and as she took her seat at the table, the sight of the haughtily poised head and eagle eyes of the portrait made her laugh. Things were indeed taking a turn when that stern face caused amusement.
With Uncle Allan at the foot of the table, luncheon was transformed into a festive occasion. Masculine tones were almost startling from their novelty; Rosalind found herself forgetting to eat. Grandmamma was wonderfully bright, and Aunt Genevieve showed a languid animation most unusual.
"It was like you, Allan, after putting us off so long, to end by surprising us," his sister said.
"I trust you intend to stay for a while," his mother added, almost wistfully.
Genevieve laughed half scornfully, as if she considered this a forlorn hope.
Allan looked at her a moment before he replied, "I don't know; I shall probably be here some time." He had more than half promised his friend Blanchard to join him in a trip over the Canadian Pacific in August. At present he felt inclined to give it up and remain in Friendship. He would not commit himself.