"Not much. I have an impression that he knows a great deal, and has very pleasant manners."
"Quite right. That is the man. So he may come? Thank you."
Lois took up one of her baskets of apples and carried it into the house, where she deposited it at Mrs. Armadale's feet.
"They are beautiful this year, aren't they, mother? Girls, we are going to have a visitor."
Charity was brushing up the floor; the broom paused. Madge was sewing; the needle remained drawn out. Both looked at Lois.
"A visitor!" came from both pairs of lips.
"Yes, indeed. A visitor. A gentleman. And he is coming to stay over Sunday. So, Charry, you must see and have things very special. And so must I."
"A gentleman! Who is he? Uncle Tim?"
"Not a bit of it. A young, at least a much younger, gentleman; a travelled gentleman; an elegant gentleman. A friend of Mrs. Barclay."
"What are we to do with him?"