“I certainly hope to,” I returned, casting a meaning glance at Chester Downes, who had risen, with a false smile on his face, and his hand outstretched.
But in spite of the fact that at that moment I meant all that I said, and had not the remotest idea that I should ever go to sea again, circumstances not then dreamed of changed my intentions later; and the reader who so desires may follow my further course afloat in the fourth volume of this series, entitled: “The Ocean Express; or, Clint Webb Aboard the Sea Tramp.”
Then my mother caught sight of Philly and Dao Singh. They had stepped out of the hack and the tall Hindoo, in his oriental costume, stood gravely behind the little golden haired beauty. She looked like a story out of some Eastern Fairy Tale, and Dao Singh just set her off nicely.
“The pretty child!” mother murmured, clasping her hands, and I know that at that instant her heart went out to Phillis Duane.
Philly was looking up at her with a bashful little smile; yet the golden lights in her brown eyes were dancing. She had laughed to see how I had caught my little mother up off the ground.
“Who is she, Clinton?” mother asked.
“My sister,” I told her, proudly.
“What?” gasped mother, and I saw Chester Downes echo the word, but in a whisper. I could imagine the start my announcement gave him. And yet, my statement could not explain all that I saw in my uncle’s face as he glared at little Phillis. It was not until afterward, however, that I remembered how startled Chester Downes was.
“That’s what we’ve agreed to, mother,” I said, smiling, too, at my pretty little friend. “We have adopted each other. Now it remains with you to take Phillis Duane right into your heart along with me.”
“The dear, dear child!” mother murmured, and went down the verandah steps to meet the girl.