Deborah was at the steps to greet them, Lovey behind her on the porch, as Leon hopped off his seat and helped the ladies from the carriage. Penelope was first, and she and Deborah embraced with a new intimacy because of their parallel troubles. Then Leon brought Sarah down, his hand strong over hers and holding hers just enough longer than was necessary to give the moment an emphasis he hoped she would remember later. Deborah took Sarah gently by the shoulders and looked at her directly before kissing her on the cheek and bidding her welcome. When Leon had helped her out, Nell joined Lovey on the porch, and then together the women went into the house.

Leon stayed behind with Floyd, who had dismounted. Plumboy was there to take care of the carriage and horses, so Leon walked with Floyd and the mare around the house to the stables.

“You appear mighty pleased with yourself,” Floyd observed in the smiling way Leon knew was meant to tease him.

“I think she’s the best girl in the world! She’s changed some since I last saw her.”

“Or you have,” Floyd suggested.

“Maybe I have,” Leon agreed happily.

Side by side Deborah and Lovey led the way up the stairs, the others following. They proceeded to the largest and most lavishly appointed guest room, which Nell and Felix usually claimed when they were at Beulah Land because of its two big comfortable beds. (Years ago Nell had said, “I am sometimes restless in the night because of my uncertain constitution, and fear to disturb poor Felix who sleeps like a blessed angel.”) Nell had been the first to insist that the Penningtons have the room. They were very special guests, she allowed, and besides, they were to be there for a long visit and must be made as comfortable as possible. Both Sarah and Penelope exclaimed at the noble proportions of the room and its handsome furnishings. Besides the beds, each of which had a table handily at its head with its own oil lamp, there were two large wardrobes, two bureaus with deep, wide drawers, a full-length looking glass on a floor pedestal that could be tilted in its walnut frame to afford the viewer a thorough self-examination. There were comfortable chairs and further tables holding books and vases of flowers, dishes of pins and odd buttons, and a useful pair of scissors on a stand with various threads looped over pegs, and needles stuck into a red velvet cushion shaped like a heart. The curtains were thin and white for summer, freshly washed for the visitors and breathing a fragrance of soap and sunshine.