Then seeing Grace, he took his feet from the stirrups. "Will the young lady come up here with me?" he asked.
In a minute the little girl, with her garland of oak leaves trailing to the ground, was seated before her uncle from London on the old gray horse.
"Well, this is an unexpected greeting," remarked the huge man to the merchant.
The twins had started down the road, leaving a trail of water dripping from their soggy coats.
"What are you doing with those switches, Cato?" asked Mr. Wyeth, turning in his saddle and winking at Uncle Daniel.
"I reckin, sah," said the old darky, smiling grimly, "Mars Nathaniel may have need of 'em. I's tol' Miss Frothingham dat dose chilluns oughter be teached ter swim."
Daniel Frothingham gazed at the soaked figures ahead, and his eyes twinkled merrily.
Just to the right of the highway, a short distance from the edge of the pond, a lane fringed with trees led up a gentle incline, at the end of which could be seen a large rambling building, with great white pillars supporting an overheavy Grecian portico.
Before the twins had turned the corner, two figures on horseback came down the main road at a steady trot.
The two boys did not move out of the way a single step, and if the first rider had not drawn off to the road-side they would have been almost under his horse's hoofs. But the twins appeared to pay no attention to this. In fact, so far as any motion of theirs was concerned the two riders might not have existed.