Gringo was in high feather. As he trailed round the room after his master, and I trailed after him, he said gleefully, “Thank goodness, young missie has quit her fooling. She’s let mister know she wants to do whatever he wants to do. Now he won’t be so bothered. He can get to work to carry out his schemes for improving country life without having to gloom round after her all the time.”
A thought came flashing into my mind. “Oh! if my poor master only had his sick wife home again—I believe he would look just as blissful as Mr. Bonstone does.”
CHAPTER XII
THE GREAT SECRET
Just as I thought this, wonderful to relate, the door was pushed wholly open, and there stood master. His face was on fire—all lit up by his blazing eyes.
Mrs. Wasp rose pretty quickly to her feet, although master had seemed to take no note of her excitement.
“I’ve got such news,” he said, “I couldn’t wait to be announced. Stanna, I’ve got a son—a little son.”
“A baby,” she screamed—“impossible—you’re dreaming,” and she went up to him, and shook him.
“It’s true, true,” he said, and he stared at Mr. Bonstone who had grasped his hand and was shaking it heartily.