At this, Molly, stepping out of the carriage, squeezed her husband's hand. “I knew that she would be lovely,” she whispered to him. And then she ran to her aunt's arms, and let him follow. He came slowly, hat in hand.
The old lady advanced to meet him, trembling a little, and holding out her hand to him. “Welcome, nephew,” she said. “What a tall fellow you are, to be sure. Stand off, sir, and let me look at you.”
The Virginian obeyed, blushing from his black hair to his collar.
Then his new relative turned to her niece, and gave her a flower. “Put this in his coat, my dear,” she said. “And I think I understand why you wanted to marry him.”
After this the maid came and showed them to their rooms. Left alone in her garden, the great-aunt sank on a bench and sat there for some time; for emotion had made her very weak.
Upstairs, Molly, sitting on the Virginian's knee, put the flower in his coat, and then laid her head upon his shoulder.
“I didn't know old ladies could be that way,” he said. “D' yu' reckon there are many?”
“Oh, I don't know,” said the girl. “I'm so happy!”
Now at tea, and during the evening, the great-aunt carried out her plans still further. At first she did the chief part of the talking herself. Nor did she ask questions about Wyoming too soon. She reached that in her own way, and found out the one thing that she desired to know. It was through General Stark that she led up to it.
“There he is,” she said, showing the family portrait. “And a rough time he must have had of it now and then. New Hampshire was full of fine young men in those days. But nowadays most of them have gone away to seek their fortunes in the West. Do they find them, I wonder?”