"He most certainly did," said Beverly, laughing; "my people have lived here for over a hundred years. You should have heard some of my father's war stories. He was only a boy at the time of the war, but he had some exciting experiences. When I was a little chap I used to wish I had been alive then, too."
"Oh, I love war stories!" cried Marjorie, rapturously; "are there any people here now who can tell them?"
"Yes, indeed, plenty. I'll introduce you to old Uncle Josh. He was my grandfather's body servant, and went all through the war with him. He's over seventy now, and doesn't work any more, but he and his wife live in a cabin down at the quarters."
"It all sounds just like a story-book," said Marjorie, with a little sigh of utter content. "I should think you would be tremendously proud of your home."
"I like it all right," said Beverly, "but now hadn't you better come in and have some breakfast? I hear Mother and Uncle George in the dining-room, and I should think you'd be hungry, for it's after nine, and you were up before six."
"Of course I was," laughed Marjorie; "I was much too excited to sleep. I wasn't going to miss the first sight of Virginia."
The dining-room at Randolph Place was very large, and the walls were lined with portraits. Marjorie was so much interested in the portraits of great-grandfather and great-grandmother Randolph, that she came near forgetting to eat her breakfast, although the fried eggs and bacon, and waffles with maple syrup, were certainly the most delicious she had ever tasted. Mrs. Randolph and the doctor watched her with kindly amusement. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement, and there was a bright color in her cheeks; she seemed quite a different creature from the pale, subdued girl of a week before.
"I declare, Barbara, I had no idea that little girl was so pretty," Dr. Randolph remarked in a low tone to his sister-in-law, when Marjorie and Beverly were in the midst of an animated discussion about Captain John Smith and Pocahontas.
"She is charming," Mrs. Randolph answered, smiling. "It is strange how much environment has to do with appearance."
"And now I am going to take you to your room, Marjorie," said Mrs. Randolph as they rose from the breakfast table. "You will want to unpack and wash up a little after that dusty journey. I have asked some cousins of ours, the Pattersons, to luncheon, and perhaps this afternoon you and Beverly will like to go for a ride. I needn't ask if you are accustomed to riding; every girl brought up on a ranch must be."