An appeal to the editor of the _Comet_ on the telephone brought back the surprising answer that they would not print the story if Sunny--that editor referred to the child of Senator Wainwright as "Sunny"--herself denied it. He requested that "Sunny" be put on the wire. Mrs. Wainwright was especially indignant over this, because she knew that that editor had arisen to his present position entirely through a certain private "pull" of Senator Wainwright. Of course, the editor himself did not know this, but Senator Wainwright's wife did, and she thought him exceedingly unappreciative and exasperating.
Mrs. Wainwright sought Sunny in her room. Here she found that bewildering young person with her extraordinary friend enthusing over a fashion book devoted to trousseaux and bridal gowns. They looked up with flushed faces, and Mrs. Wainwright could not resist a feeling of resentment at the thought that her daughter (she never thought of Sunny as "stepdaughter") should give her confidence to Miss Clarry in preference to her. However, she masked her feelings, as only Mrs. Wainwright could, and with a smile to Katy advised her that Miss Woodhouse was waiting for her. Katy's reply, "Yes, ma'am--I mean, Aunt Emma," was submissive and meek enough, but it was hard for Mrs. Wainwright to overlook that very pronounced wink with which Katy favoured Sunny ere she departed.
"And now, dear," said Mrs. Wainwright, putting her arm around Sunny, "tell me all about it."
Sunny, who loved her dearly, cuddled against her like a child, but nevertheless shook her bright head.
"Ho! That is secret I not tell. I are a tomb."
"Yes, thas word lig' Katy use when she have secret. She say it are--is--lock up in tomb."
"To think," said Mrs. Wainwright jealously, "that you prefer to confide in a stranger like Katy rather than your mother."
"No, I not told Katy yet," said Sunny quickly. "She have ask me one tousan' time, and I are not tol' her."
"But, darling, surely you want _me_ to know. Is he any young man we are acquainted with?"
Sunny, finger thoughtfully on her lip, considered.
"No-o, I think you are not know him yet."
It was painful for Mrs. Wainwright to contemplate that chapter in Sunny's past when she had been the ward of four strange young men. In fact, she had taken Sunny abroad immediately after that remarkable time when her husband had brought the strange young girl to the house and for the first time she had learned of Sunny's existence. Life had taken on a new meaning to Mrs. Wainwright after that. Suddenly she comprehended the meaning of having someone to live for. Her life and work had a definite purpose and impetus. Her husband's child had closed the gulf that had yawned so long between man and wife, and was threatening to separate them forever. Her love for Sunny, and her pride in the girl's beauty and charm was almost pathetic. Had she been the girl's own mother, she could not have been more indulgent or anxious for her welfare.