"But what was it Betty said to her?" asked Mrs. Thayer.
"Oh, yes; I didn't tell you, did I? It was this. She asked Mrs. Reynolds one day: 'Did you ever know my father?' And of course Mrs. Reynolds said, 'No.' Then Betty said: 'He is dead, you know. Oh, mother never told me so, in words; but I understand that he is, of course. She just used to say that I mustn't ask for daddy. He couldn't be with us now. That was all. At first, when I was little, I thought he was away on a journey. Then, when I got older, I realized it was just mother's beautiful way of putting it. So now I like to think of him as being just away on a journey. And of course I never say anything to mother. But I do wish I could have known him. He must have been so fine and splendid!'"
"The dear child!" murmured Mrs. Thayer.
The doctor turned on his heel and walked over to the window abruptly.
There was a moment's silence; then softly, Helen said, as she rose to her feet: "So you see now I'm not worrying so much for fear she will question me; and I shall be so happy, by and by, when she finds that daddy has been, after all, only on a journey."
Edith Thayer, alone with her brother, after Helen Denby had gone upstairs, wiped her eyes.
It was the doctor who spoke first.
"If Burke Denby doesn't fall head over heels in love with that little woman and know he's got the dearest treasure on earth, I—I shall do it myself," he declared savagely. He, too, was wiping his eyes.
His sister laughed tremulously.
"Well, I am in love with her—and I'm not ashamed to own it," she declared. "How altogether dear and charming and winsome she is! And when you think—what these years have done for her!"