David Kirk got up and put out a long lean brown hand. He was quite old…forty, if a day, Pat thought mercilessly…and there were gray dabs in the dark hair over his ears. He was not handsome, yet he was certainly what Judy would have called “a bit distinguished-like.” There was a good deal of his sister’s charm in his face and though his eyes were gray-blue instead of gray-green, there was the same tilt to his mouth…perhaps a little more decided…a little cynical. And when he spoke, although he said only, “I am glad to meet you, Miss Gardiner,” there was something in his voice that made everything he said seem significant.

“And this is Ichabod,” said Suzanne, waving her hand to the dog, who thumped his tail ingratiatingly. “Of course it’s an absurd name for a lordly creature like him but David wanted to give him a name no dog had ever had before. I’m sure no dog was ever called Ichabod before, aren’t you?”

“I never heard of one.” Pat felt that she was yielding in spite of herself. It did seem as if she had known them before.

“Our cat is called Alphonso-of-the-emerald-eyes. Alphonso, meet Miss Gardiner.”

Alphonso did not wave his tail. He merely blinked a disdainful eye and went on being Alphonso-of-the-emerald-eyes. Suzanne whispered to Pat,

“He is a haughty cat of ancient lineage but he likes being tickled under the ear just as well as if he were a cat who didn’t know who his grandfather was. He understands every word we say but he never gossips. Pick out a soft spot of ground, Miss Gardiner, and we’ll have a nice do-nothing time.”

For a moment Pat hesitated. Then she curled up beside Alphonso.

“I suppose I’ve been trespassing,” she said, “but I didn’t know you’d come yet. So I wanted to come up and say good-bye to the Long House. I…I used to come here a great deal. I have very dear memories of it.”