Mr. Dering presently broke a silence by asking to be excused, as he must go back to the store—two most unusual things; for he always sat and talked at supper 'till all were through, and rarely ever let anything take him away from an evening at home; so no wonder the meal was shortened, and the party broke up.
"Oh how nice!" cried Jean, as they returned to the sitting-room, where in their absence, a bright fire had been built in the grate, and filled the room with a warm rosy glow. "Here's my seat."
"We'll tell our secrets by the first fire of the season," said Mrs. Dering, as the girls all followed Jean's example, by pulling their chairs into the circle of warmth and light. "I thought it was so chilly this evening that firelight would be more cosy and cheerful than a lamp. Now then, who shall begin?"
"Oh you, please," cried Kittie. "We are so anxious."
Every face warmly seconded her words, so Mrs. Dering began, after a moment's silence.
"When you were all little children mama never let anything worry or disturb you if she could help it, and if anything ever did, you came right to her to be comforted and helped. Papa never let you be cold or hungry, and without clothes, or be sick, if he could help it, and they both loved you tenderly, didn't they?"
"Why goodness, yes!" cried Kat, with glistening, astonished eyes.
"And now that you have become such big daughters, they love you none the less, but more if possible; because now they must give you more thought as you grow to womanhood. Now if——"
"Oh you needn't say another word!" cried Beatrice impulsively. "You look as if you didn't know how to tell us; but we know. Your secret is the same as ours; papa is worried, and we are all, every one of us, ready to help him!"
"Why my dear girls!" cried mama, with her eyes full of tears. "How did you know?"