Page:Hollyhock house; a story for girls (IA hollyhockhousest00tagg).pdf/96

78 one little daughter had lived but a few months. “And perhaps Lynette Garden will appreciate them. Twelve years is a long time. Lynette was no older than Win is now when she went away; she must have changed.”

“She was a pretty little Angora kitten,” said Mrs. Moulton, walking on. And her husband knew that Mrs. Garden’s defence must be left to herself when she came. Mary, Jane, and Florimel ran into the house and up the stairs to the sewing-room, calling: “Anne, Anne!” as they came.

Anne opened the door to them. They saw at a glance that she was idle, an almost unprecedented discovery, and her face was darkly flushed and swollen with tears.

“You know!” cried Mary, throwing herself into Anne’s open arms.

“Win told me,” said Anne, holding Mary, dearest to her of the sisters, if she had a preference. “I have always wondered how this day would come, and when.”

“You knew our mother was alive, and never told us!” cried Jane.

“Janie, I’ve written her at odd times, telling her how you got on; she asked me to when she went away. What was the use of telling you