“Go on,” snapped Isabel, who knew she could not walk quite as well as the mischievous driver.
Accordingly they went on, and ere long came in sight of the house which even in that drenching rain looked beautiful to Isabel, and all the more beautiful because she felt that she had lost it. On the piazza little Alice stood, her fair hair blowing over her face, and her ear turned to catch the first sound which should tell her if what she hoped were true. Old Dinah, who saw the carriage in the distance, had said there was some one in it, and instantly Alice thought of Marian, and going out upon the piazza, she waited impatiently until Phil drove up to the door.
“There are four feet,” she said, as the strangers came up the steps; “four feet, but none are Marian’s,” and she was turning sadly away, when she accidentally trod upon the long skirt of Isabel, who, snatching it away, said angrily, “child, what are you doing—stepping on my dress?”
“I didn’t mean to; I’m blind,” answered Alice, her lip quivering and her eyes filling with tears.
“Never you mind that she dragon,” whispered Uncle Phil, thrusting into the child’s hand a paper of candy, which had the effect of consoling her somewhat, both for her disappointment and her late reproof.
“Who is that ar?” asked Dinah, appearing upon the piazza just as Isabel passed into the hall. “Some of marster’s kin!” she repeated after Uncle Phil. “For the Lord’s sake, what fotched ’em here this rainy day, when we’s gwine to have an ornery dinner—no briled hen, nor turkey, nor nothin’. Be they quality, think?”
“’Spects the young one wants to be, if she ain’t,” returned Phil, with a very expressive wink, which had the effect of enlightening Dinah with regard to his opinion.
“Some low flung truck, I’ll warrant,” said she, as she followed them into the parlor, where Isabel’s stately bearing and glittering black eyes awed her into a low courtesy, as she said: “You’re very welcome to Redstone Hall, I’m sure. Who shall I tell marster wants to see him?”
“Two ladies, simply,” was Isabel’s haughty answer, and old Dinah departed, whispering to herself, “Two ladies simple! She must think I know nothin’ ’bout grarmar to talk in that kind of way, but she’s mistakened. I hain’t lived in the fust families for nothin’,” and knocking at Frederic’s door, she told him that “two simple ladies was down in the parlor and wanted him.”
“Who?” he asked, in some surprise, and Dinah replied: