“Oh, Bobbie,” Mother cried, when one little quick look had shown her what it was, “you don't BELIEVE it? You don't believe Daddy did it?”
“NO,” Bobbie almost shouted. She had stopped crying.
“That's all right,” said Mother. “It's not true. And they've shut him up in prison, but he's done nothing wrong. He's good and noble and honourable, and he belongs to us. We have to think of that, and be proud of him, and wait.”
Again Bobbie clung to her Mother, and again only one word came to her, but now that word was “Daddy,” and “Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy!” again and again.
“Why didn't you tell me, Mammy?” she asked presently.
“Are you going to tell the others?” Mother asked.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because—”
“Exactly,” said Mother; “so you understand why I didn't tell you. We two must help each other to be brave.”