Her father was at the station to meet her. She threw her arms round his neck and hugged him. He kissed her warmly and said:
“Dear, dear. What a young woman you have grown!”
It came on to rain again, and in the four-wheeled cab Francis peered out of the window and said:
“It was like this when we came here from St. Withans.”
“How is Ma?” asked Annette with sudden trepidation.
“It has been a great shock to her,” said Francis, “and she has been very unhappy about it. We have agreed to say nothing to the others and to pretend that the little Fender girl is ill.”
Annette was immensely relieved. She had been most alarmed at the thought of what Minna would say. She wanted reassuring, and she asked her father again:
“Are you angry with me?”
“I? No, no, my dear. Angry! What’s the use? Perhaps you’ll be happier at home.”
“I think I will. I didn’t do anything really. I only bathed without any clothes on.”