It was _Father_.

Yes, FATHER! Why, I could have hugged him, I was so glad.

But of course I didn't, right before all those people.

But he was so tall and handsome and splendid, and I felt so proud to be walking along the platform with him and letting folks see that he'd come to meet me! But I couldn't say anything--not anything, the way I wanted to; and all I could do was to stammer out: "Why, where's Aunt Jane ?" And that's just the thing I didn't _want_ to say; and I knew it the minute I'd said it.

Why, it sounded as if I missed Aunt Jane, and wanted _her_ instead of _him_, when all the time I was so pleased and excited to see him that I could hardly speak.
I don't know whether Father liked it, or minded it.