“Oh, no, I think not. Joan would tell us there was no danger. Little Anne’s faith is strong. She cannot understand how happy she is to be an innocent child, but later on she will look back to this day and realize that she was one, and that, in very truth, her First Communion day was the happiest one of her life,” said Anne, softly.
Little Anne jumped down from the arm of Richard’s chair and flew to take Anne Dallas around the neck in a tempestuous embrace.
“Don’t be sorry you are grown up, my darling,” she cried. “You’re not so very much grown up. And you are good! I love you. I’m going to pray for all my dear ones on my First Communion day. You’re one! Sister says Our Lord will love to give me what I ask for them. I’m going to ask to be kept a little girl inside me always. Some people are. It’s very hot—warm, isn’t it? And I see Kit Carrington coming along with a handsome, elegant lady. She’s awfully handsome! They’re turning in here.”
“Do you mind being caught, Mr. Latham? Anne is right; they are coming here. You have time to escape,” suggested Anne Dallas.
“I don’t mind. I like Kit Carrington, and the magnificence of the lady as conveyed by little Anne ought to be enjoyable, even to a blind man. All right, Stetson. Ask them to come in here—or, no, show them into the garden; we’ll go there. It is warm, little Anne!”
Richard Latham, Anne, and little Anne stepped out from one of the long French windows which gave on the garden from the dining room. Helen Abercrombie and Kit had already reached one of the curved benches beneath the elms which interlaced their sweeping boughs over the turf of the upper end of the fine old garden.
Helen was such a beautiful figure in her floating white gown, with her drooping, white-plumed hat shading her golden hair as she arose to meet her host that Anne Dallas, as well as little Anne, was dazzled. It seemed a pity that a poet should not be able to look upon such wondrous loveliness.
“Mr. Latham, I brought my aunt’s guest, Miss Abercrombie, to see you because—well, she wanted to come! Miss Abercrombie, Mr. Latham,” said Kit.
“Miss Carrington would have asked you to come to tea with us, she means to still but I did want to come! Kit is right, and I’ve no better excuse for intruding to add to his,” said Helen, her voice more than ever like a delicate harp blown upon by a breeze.
“Ought you apologize for kindness?” suggested Richard. “I am glad to show you my garden. Kit and Miss Dallas know each—— Oh, really, I beg your pardon!” Richard broke off with a shocked gesture. “Miss Dallas, Miss Abercrombie.”