After dinner, however, they collected round a big log fire for a cozy afternoon, and a few minutes later a letter and parcel arrived by hand for Paddy. Both were from Doreen Blake, the parcel containing a handsome Christmas present, and the letter a piece of news that made her give a little exclamation of pleased surprise.
“Only fancy!” she cried. “Doreen Blake is engaged. What fun! How I wonder what he is like!”
The others looked up with interest.
“Evidently he has come over for Christmas, and it is only just settled,” Paddy ran on. “I am pleased. Dear old Dorrie. He is a barrister, and they met last September, in Scotland. Really, engagements seem to be in the air. First Gwen Carew, then Doreen—and now I wonder who will be the third.”
A kind of subdued murmur made her look up quickly, and something about Jack and Eileen caught her attention for the first time. In spite of herself, it sent a little chill to her heart. She folded her letter and sat down on the floor, leaning against Aunt Jane’s lap.
“Now,” she remarked, “I’m ready to be told why Jack has come home in this unexpected manner. You don’t any of you seem to have been very communicative so far.”
“I like that!” exclaimed Jack, “when you haven’t given anybody a chance to get a word in edgeways all day—but there! you always did monopolise the whole conversation.”
“You’ve come back more uppish than ever, Jack,” she retorted. “Anybody would think you had come in; for a fortune at least.”
This seemed to tickle them all quite unnecessarily, and Jack burst into a hearty laugh.
“You all seem rather easily amused,” said Paddy, “or else I am getting very dense. What is the joke?”