"I'm Patricia, Nora," she said, "and I'm sure we shall be friends."
Beth followed her cousin's lead.
"And I am Beth, Nora. Will you remember me?"
"Surely, miss; by your voice," returned the old woman, beaming
delightedly at these evidences of kindliness.
"Here is another, Nora," said their cousin, in gentle tones. "I am
Louise."
"Three young and pretty girls, Nora; and as good as they are pretty,"
announced Uncle John, proudly. "Will you show us in, Thomas, or will
your wife?"
"Nora will take the young ladies to their rooms, sir."
"Not now, Uncle!" they all protested, in nearly identical words; and
Louise added: "Let us drink in the delights of this pretty picture
before we shut ourselves up in the stuffy rooms. I hope they've
been aired."
Patsy ran to a chicken-coop on the side lawn, where a fussy hen was
calling to her children that strangers had arrived. Beth exclaimed at
the honeysuckle vines and Louise sank into a rustic chair with a sigh
of content.
"I'm so glad you brought us here. Uncle," she said. "What a surprise it
is to find the place so pretty!"
They could hear the rush of the Little Bill in the wood behind them and
a soft breeze stirred the pines and wafted their fragrance to the
nostrils of the new arrivals. Uncle John squatted on the shady steps and
fairly beamed upon the rustic scene spread out before him.
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