As she spoke she smiled at her son and yet she sighed; and it was due to Carlota that as he hastily left the room he returned an answering smile. When, after a brief delay, he came back his head had been deluged with soapsuds, which still trickled over his blue jumper, and his shock of hair was plastered as smooth as if it had been glued into place.
Then, while Mrs. Burnham bowed her head in the “silent grace” that was a remnant of her former life, the sun stole through the window of the cabin and touched their reverent forms with a glory all his own. Even so the busy housemistress felt her heart brightened by the presence of these young strangers and silently wondered:
“Are they ‘angels unawares’? I have a feeling that they will prove such.”
CHAPTER XVII
THE BURNHAMS
When the simple breakfast was over, Mrs. Burnham bade the lads remain indoors for a moment, saying:
“I want to explain to you, Carlos and Carlota, why I had you make this change of clothing. One reason is, you will feel better for putting on fresh, even if plainer garments. I do not suppose you always wore the one costume when you were at home, did you?”
Carlota laughed and replied:
“No, indeed! We had plenty of changes, though all were made the same.”
“So I judged. Also that, probably, there are no other children in this country attired in just that fashion.”
“My father thought it was the very best sort of dress for us,” returned the little girl, earnestly.