Lord Stafford arrived in England some months later. He drove up to the house one Sunday morning an hour earlier than he was expected. Lady Canning and Indiana had not yet come home from church. After welcoming him, with tears of joy, Jennings tottered upstairs to tell Thurston. Lord Stafford went into the library and, with a sense of happiness to be again in his old surroundings, toasted himself once more before an English fire. "Uncle Nelson!" exclaimed Thurston, rushing into the room. "Thurston, my boy!" Relinquishing his hand, Lord Stafford subjected his nephew to a critical survey. "Well," said Thurston, laughing, "is the examination satisfactory?" "You’ve changed—for the better," answered his uncle with a puzzled expression. "More vivacity. In fact, you’ve grown younger." "I’ll explain. I was an old bachelor. Now, I am a young married man." They both laughed heartily. "So the international combination has panned out, as we say in the States?" "Worked like a charm from the start," said Thurston. "Remarkable. And with your mother?" "Mother has completely succumbed to Indiana, and spoils her shockingly." "I’m very glad of that, I’m sure. I’ve been homesick ever since I saw you off with your bride, but I was really afraid to come home until the new wife had fitted into the new conditions." "You don’t know my Indiana. Wait until you see how well she fits into the new conditions." They heard the sound of carriage-wheels. Thurston hurried to the window, his face lighting up. "Here they are—here’s my wife!" Lord Stafford met them at the door of the library. "My dear sister!" folding her in his arms. "Nelson, I’m very glad to have you at home, you wanderer! You look marvellously well, and tanned by the sun. Have you seen our dear little daughter? Where are you, Indiana?" Thurston had drawn her to the fire and was taking off her gloves. "Here, dear Lady Canning," said Indiana demurely, with a strong effort at an English accent. "How do you do, Uncle Nelson?" She offered her cheek, which he kissed, then surveyed her with great curiosity. She looked the personification of English maidenhood, dressed in a plain, gray gown, without any pretension to style of cut. A little bonnet, tied under her chin, rested on her yellow puffs. She stood there, very demure and quiet, still holding her prayer-book. "And how do you find our sweet child looking, Nelson?" inquired Lady Canning, sinking into an arm-chair. "By George, I should say I found her very much changed!" "For the better, dear Uncle Nelson?" said Indiana, sweetly. "When we transplant a flower," remarked Lady Canning, "we must watch it very carefully for a time, lest it wither in the process. Indiana is a most flexible little person. She appears to have taken root in our soil so easily. She had not been here a week when she was perfectly at home." "Thanks to your good advice, Lady Canning. You have taken so much trouble with me."