“So we will,” said Father. “I suppose you can manage it all right?” he asked. “About fixing up things?”
“Oh, yes! we’ll manage it,” said Mother, cheerfully. “I must let the children know. Won’t they be surprised? I suppose they hardly know they have an uncle,” and she called aloud, while Father marched off to the stable, marvelling at the wonderful news, and already building castles in the air.
The five children were together at the usual gum tree meeting ground when they heard the call, and they looked at each other in dismay.
“Look surprised, Doris, do you hear, when Mother tells us. We must all look surprised, and, for goodness sake, ask questions—somebody and everybody. It doesn’t matter what they are, as long as we’re talking, and let’s all look astonished. Oh, dear! it’s dreadful!” wailed Mollie.
“Yes, we must all help,” declared Eileen, staunchly. “Everybody must ask questions and ask all sorts of things, so as it won’t look funny.”
“If only we didn’t know, and didn’t have to pretend!” wailed Eva.
“If we didn’t know, there’d be no surprise,” answered Eileen, “for there’d be no letter, no uncle, or anything.”
“Come on, we’d better run,” said Mollie; “there’s Mother calling again. Come on, let’s run, and we’ll be out of breath when we get up, and it won’t be so bad then if we don’t ask questions straight away.”
And then they took to their heels, and Baby was puffing like a pair of bellows when they reached the house.
Presently five breathless little girls stood in front of Mother, who was looking very pleased and important, as she smiled at the open letter in her hand.