"Ho! That is secret I not tell. I are a tomb."
"Tomb?"
"Yes, thas word lig' Katy use when she have secret. She say it are—is—lock up in tomb."
"To think," said Mrs. Wainwright jealously, "that you prefer to confide in a stranger like Katy rather than your mother."
"No, I not told Katy yet," said Sunny quickly. "She have ask me one tousan' time, and I are not tol' her."
"But, darling, surely you want me to know. Is he any young man we are acquainted with?"
Sunny, finger thoughtfully on her lip, considered.
"No-o, I think you are not know him yet."
"Is he one of the young men who—er——"
It was painful for Mrs. Wainwright to contemplate that chapter in Sunny's past when she had been the ward of four strange young men. In fact, she had taken Sunny abroad immediately after that remarkable time when her husband had brought the strange young girl to the house and for the first time she had learned of Sunny's existence. Life had taken on a new meaning to Mrs. Wainwright after that. Suddenly she comprehended the meaning of having someone to live for. Her life and work had a definite purpose and impetus. Her husband's child had closed the gulf that had yawned so long between man and wife, and was threatening to separate them forever. Her love for Sunny, and her pride in the girl's beauty and charm was almost pathetic. Had she been the girl's own mother, she could not have been more indulgent or anxious for her welfare.