The girls clung to her, all excitement and interest.
“Oh, how beautiful for you! Tell us about it! Is he——”
They did not like to finish the question, but Audrey, holding their fingers tightly in hers, said:—
“Yes, yes, he’s not many yards away from us at this moment.”
“Oh, how glad you must be!” They kissed her, congratulating her, rejoicing with her, till poor Audrey, knowing the awful burden of a secret concerning their own father which she had to bear and to keep from them if she could, could scarcely refrain from a burst of tears. “But you don’t look as happy as you ought!”
“He’s been ill—he’s not strong yet.”
“Never mind. He’ll be all right soon, now he’s got you! Will you tell us all about it, or would you rather not just yet?”
“Hush, Pamela, don’t chatter so much. You’re making her cry,” said Babs.
“Am I? Oh, dear, I didn’t mean to do that.”
Audrey, who did not know which was the more painful of the two, listening to their pretty congratulations on her happiness, or to their questions about their unknown mother, tried to control her emotion, and said:—