“Yes, Mother, a cablegram! ‘Safe, well, Kent.’”
“Where?”
“Spain, I don’t know what part.”
And then the long pent-up flood gates were opened and Mrs. Brown and Molly had such a cry as was never seen or heard of. The cap strings that Molly had dropped on the floor when she heard that there was news, she had gathered up in one wild swoop on the way to her mother’s room, and these were first brought into requisition to weep on, and then the sheets and the napkin from the breakfast tray, and at last even old Shep had to get damp.
“I bus’ stop ad gall up Zue ad Ad Zarah. Oh, Bother, Bother, how good God is!”
“Yes, darling, He is good whether our Kent was spared to us or not,” said Mrs. Brown, showing much more command of her consonants than poor Molly.
Caroline appeared, one big grin, bearing little Mildred in her arms.
“She done woke up an’ say ter me: ‘Ca’line, what all dis here rumpus ’bout?’”
As Mildred had as yet said nothing more than “Goo! Goo!” that brought the smiles to Molly and Mrs. Brown.
“Lawd Gawd a mussy! Is Mr. Kent daid? Is that what Mr. Paul done phomed? I mus’ run tell Aunt Mary. I boun’ ter be the fust one.”