"I had business to attend to," was his curt, gruff answer. Then he sat down and played carelessly with the scattered roses.
Hertha was grieved; thus her pretty little plan came to nothing. Of course, he didn't suspect how significant those roses were for him.
"What are the kids doing?" he asked.
Hertha started. She didn't deserve to be called by such a name as that. But she comforted herself with the thought that he was trying to hide his secret.
Grandmamma gave him the desired information. Hertha had put in an appearance, but Elly was still asleep. To-day she might have grace and sleep to twelve if she liked--the longer the better.
He was hungry, and crumbled the toasted rolls impatiently. "What incapable dog of a cook have we got now?" he grumbled.
Grandmamma stood up to go and see what had happened in the kitchen.
"Hertha is waiting too," she said.
"Where is the little one?" he asked.
"She has scampered away from you once more, like a frightened hare," responded grandmamma. "I will send her out if I see her." With which she went into the house.