On Monday Mr. Darol came. Charlie had given him very explicit directions, but she was hardly expecting him so soon. Sitting by the window she saw him coming down the street in a thoughtful manner, as if he were noting the landmarks.
"O Mr. Darol!" and she sprang to the door, nearly overturning Dot.
"Yes: you see I have been as good as my word. How bright you look! So there was nothing amiss at home?"
"Indeed there was! but, in spite of it, we have all been so happy! For everybody came home at Christmas, even Joe, whom they thought drowned. This is my little sister Dot. And oh, this is my brother Hal!"
Mr. Darol clasped the hand of one, and gave the other a friendly pat on the soft golden hair.
"I dare say Charlie has told you all about me: if she has not she is a naughty girl. Why"—
For in the adjoining room sat Florence, close to Granny's chair. No wonder he was amazed.
"That's Florence, and you've seen her before. And Mr. Edmund Darol is here," went on Charlie in a graciously explanatory manner.
"They are my brothers and sisters," said Florence with a scarlet flush.