When Mrs. Dolman wrote to her husband to say that she was returning home with the four little Delaneys, it caused considerable excitement at the breakfast table. Five little hearts beat considerably faster than usual; but so great were the order and regularity of the household that the five little faces to which the hearts belonged remained apparently impassive.
Miss Ramsay, the governess, was presiding at the head of the table. The Dolman girls were neatly dressed in print frocks with white pinafores; the boys wore holland blouses and knickerbockers. The boys happened to be the two youngest of the family, and none of the children had yet gone to school. The name and ages of the five were as follows: First came Lucy, aged twelve; then Mary, aged ten; then Ann, aged nine; then Philip and Conrad, aged respectively seven and a half and six. The faces of the whole five bore a curious resemblance to both father and mother, the eldest girl having the round, black eyes of her mother, and the large, somewhat irregular features of the father. Mary resembled Lucy in being fat and largely built, but her eyes were blue instead of black; while little Ann had a small face, with gray eyes and rather sensitive lips. The complexions of the three were fair, and their good looks were rather above the average. They were proper, neat-looking little girls, and, notwithstanding their inward excitement, they ate their breakfast tidily, and took good care not to express any emotion before Miss Ramsay or their good-natured father.
"Yes," said Mr. Dolman, looking at them, and pushing his spectacles up on his forehead, "yes, that is the news. Your mother returns to-night, and the four Delaneys with her. Let me see what else she says." He replaced his spectacles on his nose and looked over his wife's letter again. "These are the very words," he said; "Observe, Miss Ramsay, that I read from the letter. 'I return by the train which reaches Super-Ashton at six o'clock, and will bring the four Delaneys with me.' Four, you see, Lucy; that is the number. But mamma does not mention the sex of the children. How many boys or how many girls? I really am quite out of date with regard to your cousins, my love."
"But I know all about them, papa," burst from Ann's eager lips.
"You forget your French, Ann," said Miss Ramsay, laying her hand on the little girl's arm. "You will be punished if you speak English again at meals."
Ann colored and dropped her eyes. She began to eat her bread and butter hastily; she longed beyond words to tell the others the knowledge she had secretly acquired about her cousins the Delaneys.
"'Please send the wagonette to the station,'" continued Mr. Dolman, reading his wife's letter, and holding it close to his eyes, "'and—yes, the cart for the luggage, as the children'—um, um, um, that part is private, my dears."
Mr. Dolman dropped his spectacles and nodded at the eager little group round the table.
"Well," he continued, "I am glad mamma is coming home. I have really been quite bothered by the parishioners since she went away. There is always a vast deal of work left undone when mamma is absent, eh, children? eh, Miss Ramsay?"
"I agree with you, Mr. Dolman," said Miss Ramsay. "Mrs. Dolman does not spare herself; she will have her reward some day."