How strange a method had Solomon chosen of sending us the news.
The bald announcement at once plunged us into a fever of excitement, and next morning we set sail for England. Soon we came within sight of the white cliffs of Albion. Mary could not sit down for a moment, so hot was she to see her child. She paced the deck in uncontrollable agitation.
“So did I!” cried David, when I had reached this point in the story.
On arriving at the docks we immediately hailed a cab.
“Never, David,” I said, “shall I forget your mother's excitement. She kept putting her head out of the window and calling to the cabby to go quicker, quicker. How he lashed his horse! At last he drew up at your house, and then your mother, springing out, flew up the steps and beat with her hands upon the door.”
David was quite carried away by the reality of it. “Father has the key!” he screamed.
“He opened the door,” I said grandly, “and your mother rushed in, and next moment her Benjamin was in her arms.”
There was a pause.
“Barbara,” corrected David.
“Benjamin,” said I doggedly.