“Now,” said Mildred, leading the way, “suppose we go downstairs and see what your Uncle Don and the other relatives here have to say about it.”
Uncle Don had no objection to offer, nor did he or anyone else seem other than well pleased with the turn affairs had taken.
Ethel and Blanche returned home the next day accompanied by their suitors, who were not long in entering their plea with the uncles who, knowing all about them as relatives of the Keiths, and fellow-soldiers and intimates of their own sons during the last year of the war, at once gave a hearty consent, and claimed the privilege and pleasure of entertaining the young men during their stay of a day or two in the city of brotherly love.
Ethel and Blanche were also persuaded to become for a few days the guests of their uncles, and it was only after the departure of Percy and Stuart that they went back again to their own little home and reopened their store.
Harry returned to them, and it was hard at first to feel that Nannette would never again make one of the little family, yet gradually they learned to do without her dear presence and to go cheerfully about their daily tasks—the care of house and store and the making up of garments, daintily adorned, for the trousseaus likely to be wanted for the coming year.
Harry was not displeased at the prospect before his sisters, yet felt, and sometimes remarked, that their gain would be his loss. Hearing him talk in that way one day, his Uncle George said:
“You must come back to your old home with us, my boy, when your sisters go. And if that does not satisfy you, perhaps we may decide to open a branch house in their town and put you in charge of it.”
“Oh, Uncle George, what a delightful idea!” exclaimed Blanche; “for then all our little family would be together.”
“And you won’t miss your uncles at all,” he returned half sadly, yet with a faint smile, and laying a hand caressingly upon her shoulder as she sat on the sofa by his side.
“Oh, uncle, yes; yes, indeed!” she answered earnestly, tears springing to her eyes, “you have been so very, very good to us. And oh, I shall be sorry to leave Dorothy, who nursed Nannette so kindly and has been such a lovely comforter and helper to us in all our sorrow and cares.”