"Oh! Kate, Kate!" I cried, throwing my arms around her neck in a transport of joy too deep not to make me forget the few sharp words that had passed between us.
"Well, what is it?" she asked, amazed.
"He'll come back; he'll come back; he has forgotten his passport. Oh! I am so glad! so happy; he can't travel without it, you know. I defy him to go to Spain now."
I laughed and cried for joy. She sighed.
"And if he does come back," she said, "it will be to go away again."
"We shall see that," I replied indignantly. "I will not let him, Kate. He has accustomed me to have my way of late, and in this I will have it."
She shook her head incredulously; but I was confident and did not heed her; a low rumbling sound down the street had attracted my attention.
"There he is!" I cried joyfully; and with a beating heart I ran to the street door. I opened it very softly, and keeping it ajar, I listened. The sound had ceased, and for a moment all I heard was the voice of Kate whispering in my ear—
"Daisy, if you let him go this time, I shall never forgive you. Do not mind what I said; keep him; you can if you wish."
I had not time to think on her words or ask her for their meaning; a quick and well-known step was coming up the Grove—the garden gate opened—no bell rang, but a hand tapped lightly at the parlour shutters. I opened the door wide and Cornelius, for it was he, came up to me.