Dale came and they all, big Danny in his wheel chair, ate supper on the broad porch where they could enjoy the sunset. Beryl watched her brother with admiring eyes—he had grown so strong and big and good-looking, his nice-fitting clothes set off his broad shoulders so well, his voice had such a ring of confidence.
"I've been offered the management of the Forsyth Mills," he announced suddenly.
Then that was the secret!
"Really, truly?" exclaimed Beryl.
"And will ye take it, my boy?" asked big Danny, a note of pride deepening his voice.
"My boy a manager!" trilled Mother Moira.
"Yes. I'll take it. I made one condition with Madame Forsyth—and she granted it." And Dale flashed a look across to Robin. Everyone followed his glance and everyone read the truth in Robin's face.
"Robin Forsyth—and you never breathed a word!" cried Beryl, not knowing for the moment whether to give way to great joy or indignation that her friend had not confided in her.
With a quick little motion, Robin had slipped to Mother Lynch's chair and, kneeling beside it, she buried her face against the woman's heart.
"I didn't know—myself," came in muffled tones from the embrace.