"Now, Billy," she said, "be careful with those horses. When you attend, you drive very well."
She settled herself on the back seat with John, delighted to be again where her tireless sense of duty kept her busy--quite too busy at times, thought some of the village dames. "Your Uncle James will soon be at home. Is his pet scamp any better?"
John did not know, but Josiah's rheumatism was quite well.
"Sister-in-law has a baby. Six trout I ketched; they're at the house for you--weighs seven pounds," said Billy without turning round.
"How is Leila?" asked John. "Does she like it at school?"
"I think not. There is some rule that letters, but--" and she laughed merrily. The rector, who worshipped her, said once that her laugh was like the spring song of birds. "But sometimes I may be naughty enough to let you slip a few lines into my letters."
"That is more than I hoped for. I am--I was so glad to get you back, Aunt Ann, that I forgot to tell you, Mr. George Grey has come."
"How delightful! He has been promising a visit for years. How pleased James will be! I wonder how the old bachelor ever made up his mind. I hope you made it pleasant, John."
"I tried to, aunt." Whether James Penhallow would like it was for John doubtful, but he said nothing further.
"The cities are wild about politics, and there is no end of trouble in Philadelphia over the case of a fugitive slave. I was glad to get away to Grey Pine."
John had never heard her mention this tender subject and was not surprised when she added quickly, "But I never talk politics, John, and you are too young to know anything about them." This was by no means true, as she well knew. "How are my chickens?" She asked endless questions of small moment.
"Got a new fishing-rod," said Billy, but to John's amusement did not pursue the story concerning which George Grey had gleefully enlightened him.
"Well, at last, Cousin George," she cried, as the cousin gave her his hand on the porch. "Glad to see you--most glad. Come in when you have finished your cigar."
She followed John into the hall. "Ah! the dear home." Then her eyes fell on the much used spittoon by the fireside. "Good gracious, John, a--a spittoon!"
"Indeed!" She looked at the box and went upstairs. For years to come and in the most incongruous surroundings John Penhallow now and then laughed as he saw again the look with which Mrs. Ann regarded the article so essential to Mr. Grey's comfort. She disliked all forms of tobacco use, and the law of the pipe had long ago been settled at Grey Pine as Mrs. Penhallow decreed, because that was always what James Penhallow decided to think desirable.