“Comfortable! Oh, Mrs. Murray,” interrupted Mrs. Fairfax, “why this seems to me altogether the most comfortable little home that I know of, and Reginald will be so happy here with the children. As for Sister Julia, I am sure she will be a help rather than a trouble, and you will fairly love her before she has been in the house twenty-four hours.”
After this the conversation fell into a quiet chat between the “women-folk,” and a more business-like one between Mr. Fairfax and Captain Murray, and when, in its thumping, ringing way, the little clock struck nine, everything had been arranged to the satisfaction of everybody.
“I cannot tell you what a load is off my mind,” said Mrs. Fairfax, pressing Mrs. Murray's hand in both of hers, as she stood ready to go. “I only hope it has not rolled off on to yours.”
“Never you fear, dearie,” Mrs. Murray answered, in her cheerful, whole-souled way.
“How about Hereward and Ned?” exclaimed Mr. Fairfax, almost stumbling across both as they lay on the porch. “And how about Reginald's pony? Can you care for them too, Captain Murray?”
“Yes, yes, send 'em along. We'll do our best by all hands.”
“Oh, Mrs. Murray,” said Mrs. Fairfax, turning back for a moment, “please don't tell the children about the plan. Regie would so much enjoy telling them himself.”
“Oh, to be sure,” she answered; “I'll not say a word. Happy secrets are hard things for me to keep; but I'll keep this, I promise you.”
The two dogs who had come over in such rollicking fashion, trotted back again quietly enough, but Mr. and Mrs. Fairfax felt half inclined to dance all the way home, so delighted were they over the success of this splendid plan for Regie.