“Max!  Do you mean it?  Are we to stay?  Oh—­you old dear!  Make our things furnish that room?  Of course I can!”

Her arms were round his neck for the space of two seconds; then she had seized his hand, and was pulling him toward the others.  Jarvis, watching Max’s face, saw there more amiability than he could have hoped.  Yet it would have been a strangely flinty heart, he thought, that could have resisted Sally to-night.

“Ladies and gentlemen,”—­Sally made them a low bow,—­“we are so glad you’ve enjoyed our hospitality.  Allow us to express our hope that we may have the pleasure of entertaining you often during the winter.  We shall be at home here every Saturday evening throughout the season—­pop-corn refreshments and corn-stalk-fiddle music, with conversation!”

Bob was first to respond.  With a shout, he dashed into the long drawing-room, from which the musicians had now departed, and relieved his feelings by turning a series of handsprings from one end of it to the other.

Alec, who had not much cared to spend the winter in the country, but had of late become immensely drawn toward Donald Ferry, reflected that there might be good times forthcoming out here which would never happen in town.  So he grinned pleasantly enough.

Uncle Timothy, beaming, said, “That’s very good!” to Mrs. Burnside, and she returned warmly: 

“Indeed, I think it is, Mr. Rudd.”

Josephine clapped both her hands, then ran to wring Sally’s and Max’s, declaring joyfully: 

“You’ll be the most popular resort outside the city.”

Jarvis followed, to observe, in a calm tone—­to cover his delight, though he succeeded in only partially concealing it from Max, and not at all from Sally—­“I think it’s a wise decision, and I hope it will mean a partnership in strawberries and squashes next summer.  You’ll see me out soon with seed-catalogues—­since we didn’t find any behind that locked door last April.”

“We shall be so glad to have such neighbours for the winter,” said Mrs. Ferry, with genuine pleasure in her face.  “And I hope Donald and I can do something toward making you feel that you have real country neighbours of the kind who are counted as assets.”

“If it weren’t for you people, I don’t think I should have the courage to try it,” acknowledged Max.

“We’ll make it such a winter you’ll never have the courage to go back,” prophesied Ferry.  “I have a pair of toboggans stowed away somewhere; I’ll send for them when the snow comes.  That slope from your timber lot down across the fields—­”

Bob, returning from the handspring episode, caught these words and raised a whoop of anticipation.  “Hi—­toboggans!” he was heard to ejaculate at intervals during the next ten minutes.

“Sally,” said Uncle Timothy Rudd, “up in New Hampshire, where I used to live before I came to stay with your family, there is an attic full of old furniture which belonged to my father.  I have never disposed of it, because certain associations made me have an affection for it.  It is pretty old style, and not, I am afraid, in very good condition, but if you care for it—­”