Dulcie’s face fell.
“There isn’t much use in our going down, then,” she said, with a sigh. “Grandma won’t let us talk. She never does when there’s company.”
“Perhaps she will this time, because it’s our uncle,” said Daisy, who was always hoping pleasant things were going to happen. “Anyhow, it will be lovely to see somebody belonging to Mamma. I remember Papa told us about Uncle Stephen. He’s lived in California ever since he was twenty, and none of us has ever seen him. There! my boots are done. Now I can help Maud, if you’ll button Molly’s dress, Mary.”
Four little hearts were beating rather quickly, as the children hurried down-stairs to the parlor, from whence the sound of voices could be heard.
“Grandma’s talking in her ‘company voice,’” whispered Dulcie. “She must like Uncle Stephen or she wouldn’t sound so polite.”
Grandma and Aunt Kate were both smiling when the children entered the parlor, and their companion, a tall, broad-shouldered young man, rose from the sofa, and came forward to meet them.
“So these are Ethel’s little girls,” he said, and Grandma answered, still in her “company voice”:
“Yes, here they are, all four. Children, this is your Uncle Stephen from California.”
“I know,” said Dulcie, holding out her hand, with her most grown-up air; “Papa told us all about you. I think you were very kind to take the trouble to come to see us. I’m Dulcie, the eldest, and this is Daisy. Her real name is Margaret, after Grandma Maitland, but everybody calls her Daisy. These others are Molly and Maud. Molly’s named for Mamma’s sister, who died, and Maud is just a name Mamma liked in a book.”
Dulcie paused, rather breathless from her long speech. The three younger children gazed at her in undisguised admiration. Under no combination of circumstances could any one of them have dared to make such a wonderful speech, and in Grandma’s presence, too. The visitor smiled, and they all thought he had a very pleasant smile indeed.