And you, Charity Danby,—so trim, rosy, and joyful for Dorothy's sake,—don't you see how you are hindering Kassy with your nosegays and garlands and vines trailing all through the house?
And, Jack, how can you wait till it is time to drive to the train but by working like mad in the stables, in the carriage-house, in the gymnasium,—anywhere, everywhere,—so that the boy will be all the more delighted when he comes?
Hark, now, Liddy! Don't you hear something? No, that was only the village boys shouting out on the lake! Dust away, dear woman! And you, Charity, throw wide the study-blinds, and brush that stray twig from the study-table before the young mistress of the house comes back! Ah, little you dream of the joy that will thrill those very walls to-night when under Dot's own fingers the clasp of a quaint old necklace shall yield to the touch of a tiny key, and Uncle George and his precious girl shall laugh and cry together!
Ready, every one! No false alarm this time. Lydia, Kassy, and Norah, Charity and all the Danbys, are waving handkerchiefs and hats as two carriages come rolling up through the sunset light that floods the avenue.
Hurrah! Bark your loudest now, old Watch! Jack feels like dancing a hornpipe on his box. Ed Tyler, and his father, and Josie Manning jump out of one carriage; Uncle George, leaping like a boy from the other, helps a tall, bright-eyed woman, dressed in black, to alight; and then, amid a chorus of cheers and barking, and joyous cries of welcome, happiest of the happy, follow the brother and sister—DONALD and DOROTHY!
FOOTNOTE:
[1] See [Frontispiece].