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It
was
nearly
seven
before
she
came
in
,
looking
so
ill
and
tired
that
the
children
felt
they
could
not
ask
her
any
questions
.
She
sank
into
an
arm-chair
.
Phyllis
took
the
long
pins
out
of
her
hat
,
while
Roberta
took
off
her
gloves
,
and
Peter
unfastened
her
walking-shoes
and
fetched
her
soft
velvety
slippers
for
her
.
When
she
had
had
a
cup
of
tea
,
and
Roberta
had
put
eau-de-Cologne
on
her
poor
head
that
ached
,
Mother
said
:
--
"
Now
,
my
darlings
,
I
want
to
tell
you
something
.
Those
men
last
night
did
bring
very
bad
news
,
and
Father
will
be
away
for
some
time
.
I
am
very
worried
about
it
,
and
I
want
you
all
to
help
me
,
and
not
to
make
things
harder
for
me
.
"
"
As
if
we
would
!
"
said
Roberta
,
holding
Mother
's
hand
against
her
face
.
"
You
can
help
me
very
much
,
"
said
Mother
,
"
by
being
good
and
happy
and
not
quarrelling
when
I
'm
away
"
--
Roberta
and
Peter
exchanged
guilty
glances
--
"
for
I
shall
have
to
be
away
a
good
deal
.
"
"
We
wo
n't
quarrel
.
Indeed
we
wo
n't
,
"
said
everybody
.
And
meant
it
,
too
.
"
Then
,
"
Mother
went
on
,
"
I
want
you
not
to
ask
me
any
questions
about
this
trouble
;
and
not
to
ask
anybody
else
any
questions
.
"
Peter
cringed
and
shuffled
his
boots
on
the
carpet
.
"
You
'll
promise
this
,
too
,
wo
n't
you
?
"
said
Mother
.
"
I
did
ask
Ruth
,
"
said
Peter
,
suddenly
.
"
I
'm
very
sorry
,
but
I
did
.
"
