“Indeed I do,” and following the beaming, healthy girl whose once pale cheeks were now rounded and rosy, Peggy walked to the stump lot just beyond the little cottage where she was heartily greeted by Jim Bolivar, who said: 

“Well, if it ain’t a sight fit ter chirker up a dead man ter see ye back again, Miss Peggy.  Will you shake hands with me, miss?  It’s a kind o’ dirty and hard hand but it wants ter hold your little one jist a minute ter try ter show ye how much the man it belongs ter thinks of ye.”

Peggy laid her own pretty little hand in Jim Bolivar’s, saying: 

“I wish I could make you understand how glad I am to shake hands with you, and it always makes me so happy to have people like me.  It hurts if they don’t, you know.”

“Well, you ain’t likely ter be hurt none ter speak of; no, you ain’t, little girl, an’ that’s a fact.  God bless ye!  And look at Nelly.  Ain’t she a clipper?  My, things is jist a hummin’ on the little old farm now, an’ ‘fore ye know it we’ll be buildin’ a piazzy.  Now come ‘long an’ see Tom and Jerry.”

And so from one to another went the little chatelaine of Severndale, welcomed at every turn, cheery, helpful, sunny, beloved yet, oh, so lonely in her young girlhood.

And thus passed the first days of Peggy’s return to Severndale.  Then the eventful one of Mrs. Stewart’s arrival dawned.  It was a gloriously sunny one; cool from a shower during the previous night.  Mrs. Stewart would arrive at five in the afternoon.  All morning Peggy had been busy looking to the preparations for her aunt’s reception.  Harrison had followed out her young mistress’ orders to the letter, for somehow of late, Harrison had grown to defer more and more to “Miss Peggy,” though secretly, she was not in the least favorably inclined toward the prospective addition to the household:  Mammy’s report had not tended to pre-dispose her in the lady’s favor.

Nevertheless, she was a guest, and a guest at Severndale stood for more than a mere word of five letters.

Peggy ordered the surrey to meet the five P. M. car but chose to ride Shashai, and when Jess set forth with the perfectly appointed carriage and span, Peggy, in her pretty khaki habit fox-trotted beside Comet and Meteor, Tzaritza, as usual, bounding on ahead.

They had gone possibly half the distance when a mad clatter of hoof-beats caused her to exclaim: 

“Oh, Jess, they have leaped the paddock fence!”

“Dey sho’ has, honey-chile.  Dey sho’ has,” chuckled Jess.  “Dat lady what’s a-comin’ gwine get a ’ception at ‘tention what mak’ her open her eyes.”

“Oh, but I did not want her to have such a welcome.  She will think we are all crazy down here,” protested Peggy.

“Well, if she think five thoroughbreds tu’ned out fer ter welcome her stan fer crazy folks she gwine start out wid a mistake.  Dem hawses gwine mind yo’ an’ mak’ a showin’ she ain’ gwine see eve’y day of her life lemme tell yo’.”