Meanwhile another fortnight flew by, and then a letter came to Miss Gibson, and there was a hurried consultation with Mollie. Then Eileen was let into the secret, and then the others were told.
“A little brother, a little brother!” they shouted. “Well, isn’t it funny?”
“Well, of all the things that ever would happen, I thought that would be the last!” said Eva.
“Dear, dear, dear!” cried Doris, jumping round and clapping her hands. “Won’t we have fun with him?”
“Won’t we?” screamed Eva. “I hope he’s pretty, and I’ll paint a picture of him.”
“I suppose he’ll be cross, and will always want someone to nurse him,” grumbled Eileen.
“Jingo! I wish he was older,” said Willie; “he’d be great sport for me.”
Then Baby set up a roar, and said she wanted him now; and Miss Gibson lifted her up and talked to her.
“He’ll soon be here now, Baby, and you won’t be Baby any more.”
“Is that why you was always nursing her?” asked Doris. “And did you know, and never tell us?” and then she cried, too. “If you’d told me I’d ha’ made him some little dresses, ’stead of makin’ them all up for Rose.”