The stillness that followed was almost oppressive, for the little Twitters had been trained to prompt obedience. To say truth they had not been difficult to train, for they were all essentially mild.
“Now, remember, when he comes down to breakfast you are to take no notice whatever of his having been away—no notice at all.”
“Are we not even to say good-morning or kiss him, mamma?” asked little Alice with a look of wonder.
“Dear child, you do not understand me. We are all charmed to see Sammy back, and so thankful—so glad—that he has come, and we will kiss him and say whatever we please to him except,” (here she cast an awful eye along the line and dropped her voice), “except ask him where—he—has—been.”
“Mayn’t we ask him how he liked it, mamma?” said Alice.
“Liked what, child?”
“Where he has been, mamma.”
“No, not a word about where he has been; only that we are so glad, so very glad, to see him back.”
Fred, who had an argumentative turn of mind, thought that this would be a rather demonstrative though indirect recognition of the fact that Sammy had been somewhere that was wrong, but, having been trained to unquestioning obedience, Fred said nothing.
“Now, dolly,” whispered little Alice, bending down, “’member dat—you’re so glad Sammy’s come back; mustn’t say more—not a word more.”