"Mamma, dear mamma, what is wrong?" she asked.
"A sad accident, daughter," Elsie answered, her voice faltering with emotion, "poor grandpa and Aunt Enna have been badly hurt."
"Our dear grandpa, mamma?" they all asked, lips and voices tremulous with grief.
"No, darlings, not my own dear father," the mother answered, with a heart full of gratitude that it was not he, "but our poor old grandfather who lives at Roselands."
"My dear little wife, you are too much overcome to talk any more just now," Mr. Travilla said, wheeling an easy-chair to the fire, seating her in it, and removing her hat and cloak, with all the tender gallantry of the days when he wooed and won his bride; "let me tell it." He took a seat near her side, lifted "bit Herbie" to his knee, and with the others gathered close about him, briefly told how the accident had happened, and that he and their mother had met a messenger coming to acquaint them with the disaster, and summon them to Roselands; then gave the children some idea of the present situation of their injured relations.
When he had finished, and his young hearers had expressed their sorrow and sympathy for the sufferers, a moment of silence ensued, broken by little Elsie.
"Mamma, who will take care of them?"
"God," said Herbert, "won't he, papa?"
"But I mean who will nurse them while they are sick," said Elsie.
"My father will take care of grandpa," Mrs. Travilla answered, "Uncle Horace and papa helping when needed."