"We were hunting," he explained, "and were overtaken by a storm. It was a week before it was possible to get back to the village: we missed our connections with the trains, and the roads were in such a condition that fast travelling was out of the question."
"I am mighty glad to see you, Thurber. Upon my word, I am," reiterated Tom. "You are just in time to see us off. We leave to-morrow."
"So soon!" exclaimed the other. "Which way do you go?"
"Through Warsaw. I want to stay there a day or two, to remind me of the days when I read 'Thaddeus of Warsaw.' Then we are going to Vienna, for a week. Grace has never been there. After that, I suppose we shall take a peep at Italy; but we have not decided upon anything beyond Vienna."
"I have," said Grace. "We are going to Florence."
"I did not intend to remain in Russia so late as this," said Mr. Thurber. "I should like to join your party, if you permit."
"Really! Will you?" cried Tom eagerly and in a few minutes it was arranged that he should start to-morrow with us.
He then took leave, saying he had farewell calls to make; and we resumed our packing.
To-night we are all tired. We dined together for the last time with Alice. There were no strangers present, it being intended for a cheerful farewell meal. We were in better spirits than seemed quite natural, considering that it was, in all probability, the last time we should all meet together in that room.
