CHAPTER XVIII.
Two days later Mr. Robert Glenowen arrived at Second Westings by the Hartford coach, alighting to be publicly kissed and embraced with a heedless fervour which would have been a scandal to the community, had not the community by this time grown accustomed to Barbara's joyous flouting of its conventions. Barbara had established for herself a general privilege, and Second Westings had ceased to do more than lift its eyebrows.
"It's the same Barbara, the same naughty little baggage of mine I left two years ago, for all that her petticoats are longer, and her lovelocks shorter, and she takes the trouble to powder her saucy little nose!" said Mr. Glenowen, presently, holding her at arms' length, and eyeing her with critical approval.
Barbara endured the scrutiny for a moment or two, then her dark cheeks flushed, her lips pouted, and she impetuously thrust herself again into his arms.
"I have grown up since you saw me, Uncle Bob!" she cried, kissing him on both cheeks.
"Whose fault is that?" he asked, again pushing her away that he might search her eyes.
"Aunt Kitty's!" answered Barbara, innocently, her eyes as clear as a child's.
Mr. Glenowen laughed, held her with his left arm about her slim waist, and stepped up toward the inn door to greet Doctor John and Doctor Jim, who had held themselves in the background that Barbara might have the first greetings uninterrupted.
A few minutes later the four were on the way to Mistress Mehitable's, walking up the middle of the street. Barbara and her uncle, arm in arm, walked between, with the great bulks of Doctor John and Doctor Jim on either side, seeming to overshadow them; while a little way behind trudged Amos, in his blue duffle shirt and leather breeches, carrying the baggage.