"Pen," said her mother, "don't you mean to kiss cousin Porter?"
Pen was ready. Her little hands went out, and her bright, welcoming face was lifted for the kiss; but, if Porter Hudson had been a waffle, he would not have been burned by it at all. It was not altogether because he was a boy, and a big one, but that he was more a stranger. Susie had paid her country-cousins a long summer visit only the year before, while Porter had not been seen by any of them since he was four years old. Both he and they had forgotten that he had ever been so small as that.
Mr. Farnham started for the barn, to put away his team, bidding Corry go on into the house with his cousins. Aunt Judith was at last able to close the door behind them, and keep any more of the winter from coming in.
It took but half a minute to help Susie and Porter Hudson get their things off, and then aunt Judith all but forced them into the chairs she had set for them in front of the great fireplace.
"What a splendid fire!"
It was Susie said that, with the glow of it making her very pretty face look brighter and prettier, and very happy. She had already won aunt Judith's heart over again by being so glad to see her, and she kept right on winning it, needlessly; for every thing about that room had to be looked at twice, and admired, and told how nice it was.
"It is indeed a remarkably fine fire," said Porter with emphasis, at the end of a full minute.
"And we're going to have waffles and maple-sugar for supper," said Pen. "Don't you like waffles?"
"Yes," said Porter: "they're very nice, no doubt."
"And after such a sleigh-ride," chimed in Susie. "The sleighing is splendid, beautiful!"