“You had better not be too jubilant, Ronald,” calmly replied the lady addressed. “Have you forgotten how disappointed you were last night?”
“O, well, it isn’t likely they will disappoint us again,” replied the boy. “I know they will come, this time, just as well as I want to. See! that’s Marcus himself—I know him by his straw hat, and his brown linen sack that he wore to keep the dust off his clothes. And that boy by the side of him is Cousin Oscar, isn’t it? Look! isn’t that Oscar, Aunt Fanny?”
Aunt Fanny looked towards the stage-coach, still nearly a quarter of a mile distant; but her eyes were not sharp enough to distinguish the countenance of any one upon it, and she could not relieve the impatient boy from his suspense.
“I wonder what he looks like, any way,” resumed Ronald. “I can tell, just as soon as I see him, whether I shall like him or not. Why, I should think he was as big as Sam Hapley. He looks a little like him, too, from here, doesn’t he, mother?”
“I can’t tell; he is hardly within the range of my vision, yet,” replied Mrs. Page.
“Now Marcus is pointing this way,” continued Ronald. “I’ll bet he sees me, and is telling Oscar who I am. Why, mother, can’t you see them now? I can almost hear them talk.”
“Yes, that is Marcus, and there is Oscar, too,” said Aunt Fanny, after gazing a few moments at the approaching coach.
“Didn’t I tell you so!” exclaimed Ronald, rubbing his hands with glee, and dancing on the green sward around the door. “Speak to them, Rover!” he added, calling to a handsome spaniel that lay in the middle of the road, beneath the shade of a tree.
The dog sprang to meet the stage-coach, which was now within a few rods of the house; and, recognizing his master, he frisked around the horses, and manifested his satisfaction by a variety of significant signs.
Mr. Peters, the driver, reined up his horses at the farm house, and a young man, about eighteen years of age, jumped off, followed by a lad some three years younger. The first of these was Marcus Page, and this was his home, from which he had been absent about ten days, on a visit to Boston, and other places in Massachusetts. The other passenger was his cousin, Oscar Prestor, whose parents resided in Boston, but who had come to live with the family for a season. He appeared a little embarrassed, as he extended his hand to his two aunts, Mrs. Page, and her maiden sister, Miss Lee; but the cordial welcome which they extended to him, instantly put him at his ease. Meanwhile, little Ronald was gazing earnestly at the new-comer, evidently settling in his mind the important question which was to be decided at first sight, when Marcus said—