"I had her out all the morning in the sun," put in Bernard, with an affectionate nod at Eugenia, "and she's such a trump she wouldn't give out."
"You must learn to consider your sister," said his father testily.
"Oh! I liked it, papa," declared Eugenia. "I'm well and—I'm hungry."
Congo brought more waffles, and she ate one with grim determination. The alert affection which surrounded her—which proved sensitive to a change of colour or a tremor of voice, filled her with a swift sense of security. She felt a sudden impulse to draw nearer in the shelter of the race—to cling more closely to that unswerving instinct which had united individual to individual and generation to generation.
As they rose from the table, she slipped her arm through her father's and went with him into the hall.
"I'm tired," she said, stopping him on his way to the sitting-room, "so I'll go to bed."
The general held her from him and looked into her face.
"Anybody been troubling you, Eugie?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"You dear old goose—no!"