“Your mother isn't at all well, dear. I—”
And she was interrupted by Rose, who, coming suddenly downstairs, with a face very different from her usual cheerful one, said something to Miss Jones in a low voice.
Miss Jones gave a little cry: “So soon?... A girl....” And then added: “How is she?”
Then Rose said something more, which the children could not catch, and vanished.
“Very quietly, children,” said Miss Jones, in a voice that trembled; “and you mustn't leave the schoolroom till I tell you. Your mother—” She broke off as though she were afraid of showing emotion.
“What is it?” said Jeremy in a voice that seemed new to them all—older, more resolute, strangely challenging for so small a boy.
“Your mother's very ill, Jeremy, dear. You must be a very good boy, and help your sisters.”
“Mightn't I go for just a minute?”
“No, certainly not.”
They all went upstairs. Then, in the schoolroom, Miss Jones said an amazing thing. She said: