Mother stopped first. She dried her eyes and then she said:—
"I'm sorry I was so angry, darlings, because I know you didn't understand."
"We didn't mean to be naughty, Mammy," sobbed Bobbie, and Peter and Phyllis sniffed.
"Now, listen," said Mother; "it's quite true that we're poor, but we have enough to live on. You mustn't go telling every one about our affairs—it's not right. And you must never, never, never ask strangers to give you things. Now always remember that—won't you?"
They all hugged her and rubbed their damp cheeks against hers and promised that they would.
"And I'll write a letter to your old gentleman, and I shall tell him that I didn't approve—oh, of course I shall thank him, too, for his kindness. It's you I don't approve of, my darlings, not the old gentleman. He was as kind as ever he could be. And you can give the letter to the Station Master to give him,—and we won't say any more about it?"
Afterward when the children were alone, Bobbie said:—
"Isn't Mother splendid? You catch any other grown-up saying it was sorry it had been angry."
