Windows covered with white soap or whitewash.
Some say the store's going to open up under new parties--guess nobody
knows exactly. Hullo! who's that making signs?"
He indicated a tall figure on the sidewalk coming toward them at a rapid
rate, face alight, hat waving in air.
"It's Mr. Forbes Westcott," exulted Ruth, twisting around to look at her
sister. "Funny how he always happens to be visiting his father and
mother just as Rob is visiting you, isn't it, Aunt Ruth?"
Uncle Rufus drew up to the sidewalk, and the whole party shook hands
with a tall man of dark, keen features, who bore an unmistakable air of
having come from a larger world than that of the town of Eastman.
"Mrs. Gray--Miss Roberta--Miss Ruth--Mr. Gray--why, this is delightful.
When did you come? How long are you going to stay? It seems a thousand
years since I saw you last!"
He was like an eager boy, though he was clearly no boy in years. He
included them all in this greeting, but his eyes were ardently on
Roberta as he ended. Ruth, screwed around upon the front seat and
watching interestedly, could hardly blame him. Roberta, in her furry
wrappings, was as vivid as a flower.
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