"Papa gave it him," said Anastasia; "it's a new one. And may we go now and look at our gardens?"
Hugh appeared to be cogitating over Emily's proposal; his little grave face was the image of his father's. "You may if Mrs. Nemily says so," answered Gladys. "You always want to do what Mrs. Nemily pleases, don't you?"
"Oh yes," said the sprite, dancing round the room; and off they set into the garden.
"And so do we all," said Barbara.
Gladys was sitting at Emily's feet now, and had a little covered basket in her hand, which rustled as if it contained some living thing.
"Janie and Bertie don't know—none of the little ones know," said
Barbara; "we thought we had better not tell them."
Emily did not ask what they meant; she thought she knew. It could make no difference now, yet it was inexpressibly sweet and consoling to her.
"We only said we were coming to call, and when Janie saw the bouquet she said she should send you a present too." Thereupon the basket was opened, and a small white kitten was placed on Emily's knee.
There seemed no part for her to play, but to be passive; she could not let them misunderstand; she knew John had not sent them. "We should be so glad if you came," whispered the one who held her hand. "Oh, Janie," thought Emily, "if you could only see your children now!"
"And when Johnnie wrote that, he didn't know it was you," pleaded the other.