Beryl must have been away longer than she had expected, for when we heard the front bell ring and a minute later she hurried in, her first words were—
'Did you think I was never coming back? I will explain to you what I have been doing.'
When her eyes fell on us, however, her expression changed. She looked pleased, but a little surprised, as she took in that we had not been, by any means, sitting worrying ourselves, but quite the contrary. Margaret was actually in the middle of a laugh, which did not seem as if she was feeling very bad, even though it turned into a cough. Peterkin was placidly content, and I was—well, feeling considerably the better for the jolly good tea we had had.
'We've been awfully comfortable, thank you,' I said, getting up, 'and—will you please tell us what you think we'd better do? And—please—how much was the cab?'
'Never mind about that,' she said. 'Here is my aunt,' and then I heard a little rustle at the door, and in came Mrs. Wylie, who had been taking off her wraps in the hall, looking as neat and white-lacy and like herself as if she had never come within a hundred miles of a fog in her life.
'She would come,' Beryl went on, smiling at the old lady as if she loved her very much. 'Auntie is always so kind.'
I began to feel very ashamed of all the trouble we were giving, and I'm sure my face got very red.
'I'm so sorry,' I said, as Mrs. Wylie shook hands with us, 'I never thought of you coming out in the fog.'
'It will not hurt me,' she replied; 'but I feel rather anxious about this little person,' and she laid her hand on Margaret's shoulder, for just then Margaret coughed again.
'Oh,' I exclaimed, 'you don't think it will make her cough worse, do you?' and I felt horribly frightened. 'We'll wrap her up much more, and once we are clear of London, there won't be any fog. I daresay it's quite light still, in the country. It can't be late. But hadn't we better go at once? Will you be so very good as to lend us money to go back to the Junction? I know mamma will send it you at once.'