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“And it’s a long visit, too,” added Uncle John, “as you’ll believe when you see the pile of baggage. You’d think these minxes were prepared for a tour of the world. Each one of ‘em brought a carload of clothes.”
But they couldn’t phase Kenneth in that way. His sensitive face had not beamed with so much animation for months.
The guests were helped into the tall drag and merrily they drove the five miles to Elmhurst, not a word of politics being spoken on the way.
The girls had not been to the house since Aunt Jane’s death, two years ago, and after a hasty luncheon they began an inspection of every room, as well as the garden, grounds and stables. The horses, cows, pig and chickens were alike inspected, the roses and dahlias visited and admired, and after all this they returned to their rooms with old Martha, the housekeeper, and proceeded to unpack their trunks and get settled. Kenneth had been their guide and companion in these various explorations, but when the girls went to their rooms he wandered into the library where Uncle John and Mr. Watson had been having a quiet talk over their pipes of tobacco. They welcomed the young man, but adroitly turned the topic of conversation, and again the subject of was rejoined.