Glenning hitched his horse to a post at one side and turned eagerly to the house. Julia met him at the steps with eyes swimming in tears, and a face suffused with happiness. "There's been some awful mistake!" she whispered, squeezing his hand unconsciously. "Uncle Arthur is not dead at all; he is here with us!" It would be useless to attempt a description of the many feelings which assailed the young man when he heard this news. But his surprise and confusion were covered by the Major, who advanced joyfully on the instant, and took his hand. "My brother--Doctor Glenning! Lost for over half a lifetime and home again by the grace o' God in time to see a Dudley hoss walk away from the pick o' Marston's stables! Sit down, all o' you! Bless me, such a day! Daughter and brother on the same train, and neither knew each other till they met here on this portico! Arthur, my boy, this is better than a julep with the thuhmometuh at ninety-nine in the shade--'pon my soul! And all this mess about you bein' dead and the money comin' in the nick o' time to keep us out o' the po'-house--" "Father!" "Sit down, all o' you! I'm a bit excited, I fear! Peter! _Peter!_" "You'll have to call louder than that, Major. Peter's in a stall at the race track stables this minute, mothering The Prince." While the Major was speaking John had been standing by Julia's side, looking at the returned wanderer. He saw a man much like Major Dudley in height and build, with long white hair and a silvery beard which swept his chest. His face was tanned, his eyes keen, and his voice pleasant, though a trifle loud. "So he is, doctor--and tomorrow's the day! There's so much to tell and so much to listen to. Arthur, we'll spend the remainder of our days talking and listening. But the juleps! Here, Julia, you're even better than Peter at this decoction. Make us three, child. I know your uncle's tired. Take a chair, doctor--" But Glenning was already in the hall following swiftly in the train of the young lady commissioned to mix the drinks. He overtook her at the door between the library and dining-room. She heard him in pursuit, and turned there to smile at him. "Oh, I'm _so_ glad you've come!" he exclaimed, taking her two hands and looking down into her eyes. "You have been away ages!" "So long?" she laughed archly; "did you miss me?" She wrested herself free and ran to the old side-board, where the decanters and sugar sat. He was by her side on the instant. "Can it not be tonight?" he pleaded. "Will--your uncle's coming interfere?" She turned a sober face towards him. "It would not be right for me to absent myself from him the first evening after his arrival. You understand, don't you?" "Certainly I do. I knew it was useless and silly for me to ask--but I want so much to have you to myself for one hour!" "You shall--tomorrow night! What can it mean, Doctor Glenning?--that story of his death, and the money?"