It was on St. Andrew's Day that he was slowly walking home, leaning
on Felix's arm, with the two elder girls close behind him, when Alda
suddenly touched Wilmet's arm, exclaiming, 'There's Marilda
Underwood!'
There indeed was the apparition of Centry Park, riding a pretty pony,
beside a large and heavily-bearded personage. The recognition was
instantaneous; Marilda was speaking to her companion, and at the same
moment he drew up, and exclaiming, 'Edward! bless me!' was off his
horse in a moment, and was wringing those unsubstantial fingers in a
crushing grasp. There was not much to be seen of Mr. Underwood, for
he was muffled up in a scarf to the very eyes, but they looked out of
their hollow caves, clear, blue, and bright, and smiling as ever, and
something like an answer came out of the middle of the folds.
'These yours? How d'ye do'--How d'ye do'--Mary, you don't get off
till we come to the door!--Yes, I'll come in with you! Bless me!
bless me! Mary has been at me ever so many times about you, but we've
been had abroad for masters and trash, and I left it till we were
settled here.'
It was not many steps to the door, and there Wilmet flew on prepare
her mother and the room, while Alda stood by as her cousin was
assisted from her horse by the groom, and the newcomer followed in
silence, while Felix helped his father up the steps, and unwound his
wraps, after which he turned round, and with his own sunny look held
out his hand, saying, 'How are you, Tom? I'm glad to see you--How
d'ye do, Mary Alda? we are old friends.
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