“And why not?”
“Because I shall be gray-haired by the time I reach the station.”
“There's the train I do believe,” cried Kate, flourishing her whip over her horses' backs. “We must not be late.”
“If we ever get there alive,” said Harry.
“Here we are sure enough.”
“Shall I go to the train?”
“No, indeed,” cried Kate. “Do you think I am going to allow any one to meet MY Aunt Murray but myself? I shall go; you hold the horses.”
“I am afraid, really,” cried Harry, pretending terror.
“Oh, I fancy you will do,” cried Kate, smiling sweetly, as she ran off to meet the incoming train. In a few moments she returned with Mrs. Murray and carrying a large, black valise.
“Hello, auntie dear,” cried Harry. “You see I can't leave these brutes of Kate's, but believe me it does me good to see you. What a blessing a wedding is to bring you to us. I suppose you won't come again until it is Kate's or mine.”