“It cannot be possible!” ejaculated Fan.
“Mrs. Fairlie and Kate away!” said mamma. “How very sad.”
We had not the heart to talk about it and separated for our morning’s employment. School had begun again, so I made the children ready. Nelly had just entered the Seminary. Then I put my rooms in order while Fan assisted in the kitchen. Tabby came up stairs followed by her small gray and white kitten, who was a puffy ball of frolic. She glanced around the room in a curious, complacent fashion.
“Yes, Tabby,” I said, “the plague of your life has departed. Mrs. Whitcomb will be here next, and you know she is fond of you, so your troubles are ending. I don’t believe we have learned to like boys so very much, after all.”
“No,” returned Tabby, with a grave whisk of the tail, while the kitten made a vigorous attack on the bits of sunshine quivering through the great sycamore leaves.
I went down stairs and sewed awhile in the nursery. Dinner came, but no papa. Louis had returned from his drive and looked very cheerful. We could not wait on account of the children, and unconsciously his prolonged absence gave us a little hope.
It was dashed down presently. The church bell began to toll. We glanced at each other in a startled way.
“Poor Dick!” said Fan, turning her head, and I knew her eyes were full of tears. I could not help a curious thought. What if this sorrow should bring them together?
Miss Churchill made us a nice long call in the afternoon, and before she had gone papa returned. Dick had begged him to stay and go to the station for Mrs. Fairlie who had just come, and do several other special errands for him. The ladies had stopped on their homeward way at the house of a cousin in Bridgeport, and were thus easily reached by telegraph.
“What a terrible shock!” exclaimed Miss Churchill. “A man in almost perfect health, too; though Dr. Hawley I believe mentioned his having some trouble with his heart. Was that the cause?”