But Kate was anxious as she hurried with the note to Elsie. If Elsie had hated her before for interfering now she would hate her all the more.
She was sitting on the window seat in her room, dressed in the green silk suit and brown straw hat, a bright green raincoat thrown over a chair back near, and the suitcase of last night at her feet. Had she seen Kate come from the orchard house and return there with her mother? It was obvious that she had, for the face she turned to Kate was wild and strained.
“What have you been doing now?” she asked as Kate came into the room. “Who was that girl you took into the orchard house?”
“That wasn’t a girl. It was my mother.”
“Your mother! Why?”
“Your father wanted to talk to her. He sent you this.”
Elsie took the note and her face lost some of its wildness as she read. When she looked up she was puzzled but almost serene.
“It’s all right. We’re going away just the same,” she said. “Nothing can stop us now. I’m only to wait until your mother comes in.”
Kate nodded. If it was her father Elsie was running away with, she, Kate, had no more responsibility. She didn’t see how it was fair to Aunt Katherine or in any way right for them to do it that way, but she had no doubt that somehow it could be explained. Once understood, there would be no question of its rightness. So she put all that aside.
She said, “Oh, Elsie, why didn’t you tell me your father wrote ‘The King of the Fairies’? Your very own father!”