William saw them.
“Hello, Dan! How d’you do, father? Here—here’s your new daughter,” he added in a lower, more vibrant tone, drawing his wife forward, pride in his face.
Mr. Carter made a desperate plunge, tried to think of something to say, stumbled badly, and surprised himself and both his sons by suddenly kissing the bride.
“Welcome home!” he said loudly. “We’re all mighty glad to see you. We——”
He stopped short with his mouth open, amazed at his own performance. He had never intended to do anything of the kind. He was suffering from stage fright, his mind became a blank, and he simply stared.
But the bride was not at loss. His greeting seemed to touch her. She held out both hands with a fluttering, birdlike gesture, one to him and one to Dan, and she lifted a lovely, animated face.
“Vous parlez Français?” she cried eagerly, with shining eyes.
Mr. Carter looked about aghast.
“Good Lord, William! Can’t she speak English?”
He was answered with a chorus of laughter. Young Mrs. Carter, William, and Daniel giggled outrageously.