“I know how you feel,” said the housekeeper.  “Here, let me fix that tray, Miss Celia; you’ve done enough.  I suppose we’ve got to feed ’em and give ’em a room.  Ain’t it too bad to put them in that nice spare room?  No, I don’t believe the doctor’ll be powerful pleased to see ’em, though I don’t suppose he’ll let on he ain’t.  Trouble is, she’s a stayer—­one of the visiting kind, you know.  Mis’ Churchill, doctor’s mother, used to have her there by the month. There was what you may call a genuine lady, Miss Celia.  She’d never let a guest feel he wasn’t welcome, and I guess Andy—­I guess the doctor’s pretty much like her.  Well, well!”

Mrs. Fields sighed, and Celia echoed the sigh.  Nevertheless, the little hint about Doctor Churchill’s mother took hold.

Celia knew what Southern hospitality meant.  If Mrs. Peyton had been accustomed to that, it must be a matter of pride not to let her feel that Northern homes were cold and comfortless places by comparison.  By the time she had shown the visitors to Charlotte’s guest-room, and had made up a bed for the boy on a wide couch there, Celia had worked off a little of her regret.  Nevertheless, when Jeff and Just heard the news, their disgust roused her to fresh rebellion.

“I call that pretty nervy,” Jeff declared, indignantly, “to walk in on people like this, without a word of warning!  Nobody but an idiot would expect people just coming home from their honeymoon to want to find their house filled up with cousins.”

“Oh, Andy’s relatives’ll turn up now,” said Just, cynically.  “People he never heard of.  I’ll bet he won’t know this woman till he’s introduced.”

“Yes, he will.  I’ve found her name on the list we sent announcements to,” Celia said, dismally.  “I didn’t notice at the time, because there were ever so many friends of his, people in all parts of the world.  ‘Mrs. Randolph Peyton,’ that’s it.”

“Hope Mr. Randolph Peyton’ll get anxious to see her, and send for her to come home at once!” growled Jeff.

“She’s in mourning.  I presume she’s a widow,” was all the comfort Celia could give him.

“Then she’ll stay all winter!” cried Just with such hopeless inflection that his sister laughed.

When she went over at half past six o’clock, to light the fire, she found the three visitors gathered in the living-room.  She had hoped they might stay up-stairs at least until the first welcome had been given to Charlotte and Andrew.  But it turned out that Mrs. Peyton had inquired of Mrs. Fields the exact hour of the expected arrival, and presumably had considered that since the Peytons represented Doctor Churchill’s side of the house, their part in his welcome home was not to be gainsaid.

Mr. Birch, Jeff, Just, and Mrs. Birch with little Ellen, presently appeared.  Lansing had gone back to his law school, but a great bunch of roses represented him.  It had been Charlotte’s express command that nobody should go to the station to meet the returning travellers, but that everybody should be in the little brick house to welcome them when they should drive up.