“No, don’t you worry about money and debts. Be happy, careless children as long as you can.”
CHAPTER VII.
FRANK.
It was very quiet up at the house the next afternoon. Mother and the children had gone down to see the overseer’s wife at Jenkin’s old place. The children liked the overseer’s wife; she always made nice little hot cakes when she saw them coming, and she always had some English papers with big pictures in them, and she had boxes of sea-shells that she let them play with every time they went. They always knew just what was going to happen. First she would come out and welcome them all—and she was nice and plump and had rosy cheeks and nice blue eyes—and then when she had a little talk she would introduce the papers to the children, and then the wonderful sea-shells, which they never got tired of admiring, and they would empty them out and run their fingers through them, and wonder when they would go to the wonderful far-off beaches and play with the glistening shells and stones. They almost forgave the overseer’s wife for not having any children for them to play with, while they played with the shells. And then she and Mother would talk such a lot, that they would try and make believe that it was just as good as having the Jenkins back.
Only Mollie was at home, and she hurried about her work and set the table for tea, darkened the dining-room to keep it cool, and then, with one last look round, she hurried out and tied her shady hat on.
“Now everything is ready, I’ll slip down and tell Uncle.”
Mollie had another secret, and it was harder to tell and try and fix up than the letter.
Then down the track to the river she sped.
“I do hope he’ll understand it all,” was the burden of her thoughts as she sped on, lest her courage should fail her. Down under the oak trees Uncle was reading a book, and he looked round with surprise at Mollie’s flushed face.
“Oh, Uncle! I want to talk to you. I’ve got a lot more to tell you, but I couldn’t say it when the others were about.”
Then she poured forth Frank’s story into Uncle’s listening ear.