“There, there, dear, don’t cry; I knew you wouldn’t.” And Mrs. Thorne put a kind arm round the trembling child. “You thought you were doing something very fine, and now you are going to do something much finer, by going home again, and showing your papa that you trust him, and feel sure he would not do anything to make you unhappy. As for the stepmother; all stepmothers are not wicked. There are many who love their stepchildren dearly. Perhaps your stepmother is longing to know you, and to make you love her. I doubt very much that she has ever thought of you as incumbrances. Now I think breakfast must be ready, so dry your eyes, and we will join the others in the dining-room.” That was a wonderful morning; the children never forgot it. To Molly and Maud it was a morning of pure delight, and even their elder sisters, in spite of several causes for anxiety, could not help enjoying themselves, whenever they forgot to think about the future. Mrs. Thorne was very kind to them all, and Barbara proved a delightful little hostess. The shower was a very slight one, and by the time they had finished breakfast, the sun was shining once more. Mrs. Thorne went out in the pony phaeton again, and Dulcie and Daisy had an uncomfortable conviction that her errand was in some way connected with their affairs. Nothing, however, was said about their going home at once, and Barbara took them all out to inspect the rabbits. When it grew too hot in the sun, they came indoors again, and Barbara took them up to her nursery--a room so full of beautiful toys that Molly and Maud felt as if suddenly transported to fairyland. “What do you suppose is going to happen?” Daisy whispered to Dulcie, on the way up-stairs. “Are we to stay here till somebody comes to take us home?” “I don’t know,” Dulcie answered mournfully; “Mrs. Thorne is attending to everything, and I don’t like to ask her any questions. The thing I’m most afraid of is that Grandma may come for us herself. It would be dreadful to have to go all the way home in the train with Grandma.” At one o’clock Mrs. Thorne called them all down to luncheon, and it was just as they were finishing that meal that the telegram arrived. The waitress brought it in on a tray, and handed it to Mrs. Thorne, who opened it, and read aloud: “Please send children home by next train. They will be met at the station.” There was a moment of dead silence, and then Mrs. Thorne said quietly: “The telegram is from your grandmother, in answer to one I sent her this morning.” “We thought it was,” said Dulcie, meekly. “How soon does the next train go?” Mrs. Thorne left the room to consult a time-table, and Barbara began to express her entire disapproval of the whole affair. “I don’t see why you can’t stay,” she protested; “there’s plenty of room. It would be so nice to have you stay all summer, and we could have such fun all together. Wouldn’t you like to stay?”