Her girls—her tall, handsome Beryl with the strong shoulders and the free swing of her, and little Robin, with her deep blue eyes and her tender lips and her alive hair, and the little limp that gave her walk the appearance of eagerness.
There was still so much to talk about that the two girls lingered under the trees while Mother Moira swung gently and listened and watched the dear young faces. Beryl had been the guest for a weekend at a duke's house; Robin had spent a month in the Canadian Rockies with her Jimmie; Dale had brought home all sorts of tales of adventures from an expedition he had made with an engineering gang into the fastnesses of South America, and Beryl had been asked to tour in the fall with the Cincinnati Symphony and was going to accept. Their chatter came back then to Wassumsic and the new hospital and the library and the new teachers, who were Smith College graduates, and Sophie Mack who had started a Girl Scout troop, and the new athletic field at the House of Laughter.
"Bless me, it's forgetting the supper I am, and Dale coming!" cried Mother Moira, springing to quick life.
"And Dale has a wonderful secret to tell, too," laughed Robin, her eyes shining.
Beryl looked at her friend curiously—Robin had the "all-tight-inside" look that Beryl remembered from the old days at the Manor.
"Do you know the secret?" she asked.
Robin's face flushed rose-red. "Y-yes. But I promised Dale I wouldn't tell. We both want to see your mother's face—when she hears it."
"Well, I think you're mean to have a secret with Dale that I don't know!" cried Beryl, with real indignation. "Is it something that's going to make Mom lots happier?"
"I—hope—so!" And to hide the tell-tale rose on her face Robin threw her arms around Mother Moira and kissed her.
"Faith, is it any happier I could be without my heart just breaking?"