“Of course,” replied Mary, sententiously.
“Why of course?” asked her father.
“Because of course I love her. She is the dearest girl I know. She hugs just be-yew-tiful.”
Victoria came in at this moment and Andrew drew her to him. “I am glad we are alone once more,” he said. “One such kick-up will do for a life time.”
“But it has been very enjoyable, Andrew. Everybody has gone away delighted. I have heard so many pleasant things said about you, and it has made me glad. I feel very proud of my noble husband.”
She placed her hand upon his head. He caught it and carried it to his lips. “I am rewarded,” he said, looking lovingly into her eyes. “I would do it all over again to hear such sweet words from the lips I adore.”
“But there is something I wish to ask you, Andrew. Run away to Chloe, my darling,” she continued, stooping to kiss Mary, “mamma wishes to be alone with papa.”
As Mary left the room she turned again to Andrew, a slight shade of annoyance on her face. “Is there a room in this house which I know nothing of, Andrew? A room in the western gable which I have always supposed was false?”
Andrew’s face became ashen pale. His eyes sought the floor. He dared not look at Victoria. Wild thoughts flashed through his brain. Who had told her? How much did she know? With an effort he mastered his emotions, but he kept his eyes upon the floor. “Who has been filling you with silly tales, Victoria?”
“Mrs. Bradley said——”