Their father had the open letter under his hand, on the table. He was looking at their mother, and there were tears in her eyes. He turned to the children, and said, in a voice which he tried hard to make cheerful:—
"Well, Nelly, are you ready for bad news?"
"Oh, yes!" interrupted Nelly, "indeed I am, all ready. I knew it would be bad news! I knew it when we were at Mr. Kleesman's."
"Pshaw!" said Rob, and sat down in a chair, and twirled his hat over and over between his knees: "I don't care! I'm going fishing." And he jumped up suddenly, and ran out of the room.
Mrs. March laughed in spite of herself.
"That is to hide how badly he feels," she said. "Let's all go fishing."
Nelly did not laugh. She stood still by the table, leaning on it.
"It's all my fault," she said. "If I hadn't found the mine, we shouldn't have had all this trouble."
"Why, child, this isn't trouble," exclaimed her father; "don't feel so. Of course we're all a little disappointed."
"A good deal!" interrupted Mrs. March, smiling.