And they set out, though without evincing any undue hurry. “Perhaps we ought to wait for them here,” said Ann, at the turning of the lane. Jim had dropped down on the dusty road, and lay with his ear to the ground. “Jim, get up at once!” Barbara commanded; but the scout remained motionless. “I can’t hear anything,” he whispered. Grif poked him gently with his foot. “What do you expect to hear? An earthquake?” “Look at the mess you’re in!” Barbara went on officiously. “Oh, leave me alone. It’s the way Indians always listen. You can hear for miles if there’s anybody on the road.” He got up and brushed some of the dust from his clothes, while Pouncer, who thought he had been looking for rats, proceeded to investigate further. “I can see them!” piped Ann from the top of the bank. “They’re walking.” There was a sudden rush, with shouts and halloes, even the correct Barbara joining in. The two schoolboys they had come to meet, however, displayed less enthusiasm. Edward merely waved a lordly hand. “These are the kids,” he said, presenting his brothers and sisters _en masse_ to Palmer Dorset. “I dare say you’ll get used to them in time.” “How do you do, Balmer?” murmured Ann, holding out her hand shyly. But the greetings of the others were merely vocal, and Barbara gave none at all, being offended at the manner of Edward’s introduction. Edward bore little resemblance either to Grif or to Jim. He was big for his age, and distinctly the best-looking of the family; very fair, with blue eyes and a pointed chin. One noticed that his clothes hung well upon him. Palmer Dorset, though six months older, was nearly a head shorter. Palmer was very sturdily built, and had bright red hair, dry, crisp, and wavy, and strong as wire. He had a fair, fine skin, much freckled, and his eyes, of a reddish brown, were small, with almost no white showing. When he laughed they lit up and his whole face displayed an extraordinary animation: at other times his expression was grave and uncommunicative. His forehead was broad, his eyebrows nearly invisible, his mouth unusually small and delicately shaped. “When did you get down?” asked Edward, patronizingly. “To-day. Just by the train before yours.” “Aunt Caroline says we’ll see grandpapa to-night at dinner,” Ann murmured in her queer, half plaintive little voice. “Naturally.” “After to-night we’re all to have dinner in the middle of the day――all of _us_, I mean. I’m rather afraid of grandpapa.” Jim, who had been lost in thought for some five minutes, began suddenly: “My first is in ‘bat’ but not in ‘cat.’ My second’s in ‘uncle’ but not in ‘aunt.’ My third is in ‘night’ but not in ‘day.’ My whole was in me this afternoon at tea-time. What is it?” He glanced with a quick smile at Palmer. “Oh, dry up. I warned you what they were like, Dorset, so don’t blame me. Just smack their heads now and then.”