"You may believe me," he said, simply. "If I looked grave, it was not on your account, Miss Hilda, but on our own. A letter must have gone astray, your mother thinks. You should have heard from her several days ago; and—and she is expecting visitors to-morrow, and—well, if I must tell the truth, the carriage is here, and I am to drive you home as soon as you are ready."
A cry of dismay broke from the lips of the whole family; a cry so hearty, so full of distress, of affectionate concern, that it brought the quick tears to Hilda's eyes. She smiled through the tears at Bell, who already had her in her arms, and declared she could not let her go; while Will and Kitty pulled at her gown, and cried frantically that Hilda was theirs, and should never go away, never at all. Mrs. Merryweather smoothed her hair, and murmured kind, understanding words in a low tone; and Gertrude sat down on the ground and wept piteously.
"Oh," said Hilda to all these good friends, "you know it is not because I don't want to go to my blessed mother; of course you all know that—"
"Of course we do, dear!" cried Bell and her mother, soothingly. "Of course you want to go, and we ought to want you to go; but we don't; and it has come so quickly, and all."
"And we were going to the Painted Rocks to-morrow!" cried Phil.
Gerald began to mutter something under his breath about
"Little Gerald was my brudder,
Merry Mater was my mudder,
Nebber heard ob any udder."
But his adaptation was checked by a look from his mother, and he relapsed into gloom. "It's a horrid, atrocious shame!" he said. "I can't help it, and Hilda needn't speak to me again if she doesn't want to; but I cannot tell a lie, and I am NOT glad that Mrs. Grahame has come home, and I never shall be."
"Dear Jerry!" said Hilda. "We have had such good times, haven't we? And you will be coming back, you know, to town some day, and I shall hear all about the merrymakings—"
But here her voice broke, and deeply ashamed of herself, she hurried into the house to put her things together. The kind Merryweathers went with her, and vied with each other in helping her make her preparations. Since it must be, it should be as cheerfully done as possible; so Bell packed her trunk, and Gertrude buttered bread with ardour, that Hilda might have luncheon before she went; a good many tears fell into the butter, but Hilda said she did not mind that.