When, upon much cross-examination of Odalite, they found out that the marriage of the young lovers was to be quietly performed in the parlor of their father’s house, and that the newly married pair would immediately sail for Europe in advance of the family, who were to join them at Enderby Castle later on, their ecstasies took forms strongly suggestive of Darwin’s theory concerning the origin of the species. In other words, they danced and capered all over the drawing room.
“We want Rosemary to go with us, papa, dear,” said Elva.
“We must have Rosemary to go with us, you know, mamma,” added Wynnette.
“That is not for us to say,” replied Mr. Force.
“It is a question for her mother and her aunt,” added Mrs. Force.
But the little girls did not yield the point. Rosemary’s three years’ association with them had made her as dear to Wynnette and Elva as a little sister. And when they found out that Rosemary was heartbroken at the prospect of parting from them, and “wild” to accompany them, they stuck to their point with the pertinacity of little terriers.
Now what could Abel Force—the kindest-hearted man on the face of the earth, perhaps—do but yield to the children’s innocent desire?
He wrote to Mrs. Hedge and to Miss Grandiere, proposing to those ladies to take Rosemary with his daughters to Europe, to give her the educational advantage of the tour.
In due time came the answer of the sisters, full of surprise and gratitude for the generous offer, which they accepted in the simple spirit in which it was made.
And when Wynnette, Elva and Rosemary were informed of the decision there were not three happier girls in the whole world than themselves.