They seemed delighted to be at home once more, and both looked unusually
well, having gained in flesh and color. The professor was genial and
serene, Mrs. Macon full of life and sparkle. She ran from room to room,
like a child; then through the gardens and shrubberies, returning quite
out of breath.
"O Henry!" she cried, "isn't it nice to find everything in such good
condition? I remember after our last long trip it was really dreadful
for a week or two--everything yellow and musty; mice and cockroaches
camping in the library and bedrooms, and spiders everywhere. By the way,
Sara, have you had to fight moths much?"
"Yes, occasionally. Molly has made a raid on them every week or so, with
gasoline, I believe--I don't think they've made much headway."
"Well, it's perfectly charming; and I should break out into 'Home, sweet
Home,' or something else equally original, if I had an atom of a voice.
Now tell me all the news,--who's married, and to whom have the storks
brought the blessed babies?"
"Yes, don't forget the babies," laughed her husband. "Marian has spent
most of her trip acting as nursemaid to poor little sticky-faced souls,
whose mothers were utterly discouraged, I'm daily expecting that the
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children will send her a gold
medal, for I am sure she richly deserves it.
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