At Fernlands the eleven strokes of the grandfather's clock in the great
hall found the gray-eyed lady in the arms of a young fellow who had but
that instant bounded lightly up the walk from the sleigh Major Verney
had dispatched to Cotesville to meet the Northern Express. The Major,
smilingly awaiting his opportunity to greet the newcomer, ran his eye
approvingly over the lines of the well-knit figure and handsome face of
the young man.

"Well, Dick," said the Major, advancing with outstretched hand as the
girl flushed prettily and smoothed back the dark mist of hair from her
forehead, "how are you, my boy? Busy, of course. We read fine things
of you in the papers at times." Then, as the young man took off his
overcoat, "What, sir," the Major inquired, "do you mean by falling in
love with my only niece? Here my brother writes me that his daughter
is engaged to a man who knows me, and will I pack off a carload of
testimonials by special messenger indorsing the little rascal who used
to steal my apples. What, sir, do you mean?"

"Well, Major," Dick answered as he was ushered into the big
living-room, his laughing eyes alight with happiness, "she had the
Verney eyes, and you remember I always liked them." He sank into a
chair by Ruth with a smiling glance at the Major. "It is unusually
cold for down here. There's a real bracing Northern sting in the air.
And what a snow! It's packed down so that the runners fairly flew.
Major, do sit down!"

The Major was still bustling about, urging Ruth into another chair by
the fire that he himself might sit by Dick, poking energetically at the
blazing logs, and firing a volley of directions at black Sam.