“I can’t see what good a fair is if you come home starved to death from it,” snapped Dora. “Of course, your supper is ready. Am I ever late? Not that there ain’t enough to hinder one——”
But Barbara was at the phone.
“Cara, Cara!” she could be heard to exclaim. “The most wonderful news! From Washington! About Nicky. Oh, do hurry around——”
“Yes, a letter. It was here when I came home. Oh, here comes Dads. I must tell him. See you in a few minutes? Yes, do hurry,” and Babs banged the receiver on the hook and flew to the door.
Her father was just coming up the Trail but he didn’t dance over the stones as Babs would have done. Yet, he too liked that distracting stone walk. One could never think of trouble when treading it; just stones. They demanded one’s entire attention.
Babs swung herself around her father’s neck—by her arms, of course—in a way she had not lately been indulging in.
“Oh, Daddykinks!” she gurgled, lips pressed to his kindly cheeks. “News from Washington. They answered my letter——”
“Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they?” the doctor interrupted dryly. “Look who you are! Didn’t you get proud at the Community House this afternoon?” He pressed her close to his mohair coat. “I did,” he declared frankly. “With our sampler and our new relations——”
“But this. You see this isn’t for us; it’s for Nicky. And he hasn’t anything else. Just sit down and read it,” she begged. “Do daddy, please.”
“That supper you was talking about is pretty well spoiled,” put in the grouchy Dora. “And it isn’t my fault. You understand that, I hope.”