“Sorry ma’am. But it’s a telegram, and it’s marked “Urgent.” So I thought I’d better bring it in.”
Miss Stone took the envelope from her hand, and tore it open hastily. Her face changed. She looked at Robin uncertainly.
“This—this alters matters,” she said. “It concerns you, Robin.”
All the defiant carelessness died out of Robin’s face. She sprang forward.
“Mother!” she cried, and her voice was a wail. “It isn’t Mother!”
“No—no. Not your Mother. She has telegraphed for you to go home at once. There is bad news for you, I am afraid.”
“Then she is ill! Tell me, quickly!”
“It is not your mother at all,” Miss Stone answered. “It is your uncle. He—he died yesterday, my dear.”
Robin stared at her, helpless in her overwhelming rush of relief.
“Oh—Uncle Donald!” she said. She gave a short laugh, and caught at Betty to steady herself, forgetting Miss Stone altogether. “I—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to laugh. But I thought it was Mother!”