And her father, raising his hat, had answered her:
"Yes, up there, my child."
In a short time she had reached the wicket-gate, caught sight of Jessie in the porch, and laughed at her, such a glad, merry laugh, which seemed to bring joy with it, and stir up all the echoes in the old house!
Jessie started. Could it be that she heard that laugh re-echoed from somewhere? But she had no time to listen; her hands were taken, and rosy lips pouted to kiss her.
"You have come to welcome us!" exclaimed the girl. "That is good of you. Oh, I am so glad to be here; I am so tired!"
"One would not think so," returned Jessie; "you have come so quickly."
"Of course, of course I came quickly, because I am so tired," was the merry answer. "Let me see." And she pushed her way past Jessie and ran straight into the parlour.
"Oh, how sweet! how pretty!" she exclaimed. "I thought it would be ugly and desolate. Patience would not tell me; she said she had seen Holt Farm long long ago, and verily it looks as if someone had just gone out and left it for us. Oh, I shall be so happy here, so happy!" And she let herself fall into a great arm-chair, which seemed to swallow her up.
Just at that moment the vicar and Patience reached the house. The vicar lifted Patience down, and, turning, said to Rolfe, the man-servant:
"Take the horses round to the back. I will come and show you the way to the stables."