As the old lady went forward, Champe rushed into the hall, and caught her in his arms.
“On my word, you're so young I didn't know you,” he cried gayly. “If you keep this up, Aunt Molly, there'll be a second Lightfoot beauty yet. You grow prettier every day--I declare you do!”
“Hold your tongue, you scamp,” said the old lady, flushing with pleasure, “or there'll be a second Ananias as well. Here, Betty, come and wish this bad boy a Merry Christmas.”
Betty looked round with a smile, but as she did so, her eyes went beyond Champe, and saw Dan standing in the doorway, his soft slouch hat in his hand, and a powdering of snow on his dark hair. He had grown bigger and older in the last few months, and the Lightfoot eyes, with the Lightfoot twinkle in their pupils, gave an expression of careless humour to his pale, strongly moulded face. The same humour was in his voice even as he held his grandfather's hand.
“By George, we're glad to get here,” was his greeting. “Morson's been cursing our hospitality for the last three miles. Grandpa, this is my friend Morson--Jack Morson, you've heard me speak of him; and this is Bland Diggs, you know of him, too.”
“Why, to be sure, to be sure,” cried the Major, heartily, as he held out both hands. “You're welcome, gentlemen, as welcome as Christmas--what more can I say? But come in, come in to the fire. Cupid, the glasses!”
“Ah, the ladies first,” suggested Dan, lightly; “grace before meat, you know. So here you are, grandma, cap and all. And Virginia;--ye gods!--is this little Virginia?”
His laughing eyes were on her as she stood, tall and lovely, beneath a Christmas garland, and with the laughter still in them, they blazed with approval of her beauty. “Oh, but do you know, how did you do it?” he demanded with his blithe confidence, as if it mattered very little how his words were met.
“It wasn't any trouble, believe me,” responded Virginia, blushing, “not half so much trouble as you took to tie your neckerchief.”
Dan's hand went to his throat. “Then I may presume that it is mere natural genius,” he exclaimed.
“Well, yes, just that--to grow tall,” then he caught sight of Betty, and held out his hand again. “And you, little comrade, you haven't grown up to the world, I see.”