Chapter Two.
Papa’s Bit of News.
Yes, it was papa. I opened the front-door a tiny bit just to make sure. He had already sprung out of the dog-cart, throwing the reins to the groom, who went round by a back way to the stables. As papa came close to the door he caught sight of me.
“Connie!” he exclaimed; “my child, keep out of the draught. Well, dear,” when he had come in and was standing by me in the hall, where a bright little fire was burning—we have such a nice hall in our house, old-fashioned and square, you know, with a fireplace—“well, dear, how are you? And what have you been doing with yourself this dull day?”
“Oh, I have been so tired of myself, papa,” I said, nestling up to him. If there is, or could be, any one in the world I love better than mamma, it’s papa! “I am so glad you’ve come home, and now we may have a nice evening, mayn’t we?”
“I hope so. Mamma must let you come in at the end of dinner, to make up for your dull day,” said papa. But I interrupted him eagerly:
“It’s not dinner to-night, papa—not proper dinner—because you were so uncertain, you know.”
“All the better,” he replied, “for I have some news for mamma and you.”