“I am afraid,” said Sir Richard, “that the meeting has much to answer for in the way of flooding you with unexpected guests.”
“Oh! dear, no, sir, I love unexpected guests—the more unexpected the more I—Molly, dear,” (to her eldest girl), “take all the children up-stairs.”
Mrs Twitter was beginning to get confused in her excitement, but the last stroke of generalship relieved the threatened block and her anxieties at the same time.
“But what of Sam?” asked young Welland in a low tone; “any news yet?”
“None,” said the poor mother, suddenly losing all her vivacity, and looking so pitifully miserable that the sympathetic Di incontinently jumped off her chair, ran up to her, and threw her arms round her neck.
“Dear, darling child,” said Mrs Twitter, returning the embrace with interest.
“But I have brought you news,” said the missionary, in a quiet voice which produced a general hush.
“News!” echoed Twitter with sudden vehemence. “Oh! Mr Seaward,” exclaimed the poor mother, clasping her hands and turning pale.
“Yes,” continued Seaward; “as all here seem to be friends, I may tell you that Sam has been heard of at last. He has not, indeed, yet been found, but he has been seen in the company of a man well-known as a rough disorderly character, but who it seems has lately put on the blue ribbon, so we may hope that his influence over Sam will be for good instead of evil.”
An expression of intense thankfulness escaped from the poor mother on hearing this, but the father became suddenly much excited, and plied the missionary with innumerable questions, which, however, resulted in nothing, for the good reason that nothing more was known.