“I’ll never forget if I live to be a hundred, what I saw on my way home the night after Emmett was drowned. I was living here then, you know. I was passing through Fishburn Court, and I thought I’d go in and speak a word to Mr. Darcy, knowing how fond he’d always been of Emmett on account of Dan and him being such friends. I went across that sandy place they call the Court, to the row of cottages at the end. But I didn’t see anything until I had opened the Darcy’s gate and stepped into the yard. The house sits sideways to the Court, you know.
“The yellow blind was pulled down over the front window, but the lamp threw a shadow on it, plain as a photograph. It was the shadow of the old man, sitting there with his arms flung out across the table, and his head bowed down on them. I was just hesitating, whether to knock or to slip away, when I heard him groan, and sort of cry out, ’Oh, my Danny! My Danny! If only you could have gone _that_ way.’”
Barbara, hearing a muffled sob behind her, turned to see the tears running down Georgina’s face. The next instant she was up, and with her arms around the child, was gently pushing her ahead of her out of the room, into the hall. With the door shut behind her she said soothingly:
“Barby didn’t know they were going to tell such unhappy stories, darling. I shouldn’t have let you stay.”
“But I _want_ to know,” sobbed Georgina. “When people you love have trouble you ought to know, so’s to be kinder to them. Oh, Barby, I’m so sorry I ever was saucy to him. And I wish I hadn’t teased his cats. I tied paper bags on all of John Darcy and Mary Darcy’s paws, and he said I made old Y-yellownose n-nervous, tickling his ears----”
Barbara stopped the sobbing confessions with a kiss and took Georgina’s jacket from the hatrack.
“Here,” she said. “It’s bad for you to sit in the house all day and listen to grown people talk. Slip into this and run outdoors with your skipping rope a while. Uncle Darcy has had very great trouble, but he’s learned to bear it like a hero, and nothing would make him grieve more than to know that any shadow of his sorrow was making you unhappy. The way for you to help him most is to be as bright and jolly as you can, and to _tease_ his old cats once in a while.”
Georgina looked up through her tears, her dimples all showing, and threw her arms around her adoringly.
“What a funny mother you are, Barby. Not a bit like the ones in books.”
A cold wind was blowing the fog away. She raced up and down the beach for a long time, and when she came back it was with red cheeks and ruffled curls. Having left the company in tears she did not like to venture back for fear of the remarks which might be made. So she crossed the hall and stood in the door of the guest chamber, considering what to do next. Its usual chill repellance had been changed into something inviting by the wood fire on the hearth, and on the bed where the guests had deposited their wraps lay an array of millinery which drew her irresistibly.