“It’s all right, old man, but take my advice and keep off the grounds. ’Twill be better for your health.”
In the meantime Dorothy had fluttered down the great steps and ran toward Sam.
“Hello, little one! Having lots of fun, eh!”
And with the same, he caught Dorothy’s hands and he commenced to dance her about as he sang the words, “Little Bo-peep had lost her sheep and couldn’t tell where to find them.”
“Oh, don’t Sam; I want to find papa!” replied the child, impatiently.
“You do, eh? Now, don’t you want me to be your escort?”
“Come, I’ll tell you how to find him. You shall sit on my shoulder and be the tallest queen of the party, while I be the horse to ’lope about in search of your papa.”
“Thank you, Sam, but I can’t stay for a ride now. I’m in such a hurry; some other time,” and the child turned from him and ran toward the slowly retreating form of Jack.
“You are, eh? All right, and while you are looking for papa, I’m going to look for the fair party you call auntie. I guess so!” Whereupon Sam quickly sprang up the steps. Arriving on the piazza he halted, turned around and looked toward the child as though the premonition of something wrong—something associated with the child’s insecurity, being alone—had suddenly darted into his brain; but seeing others of the guests at that moment emerging from the east front of the house on the well lighted grounds, he dismissed the “still small voice” of warning from his mind and passed in among the dancers.
“Papa, papa! Where is my papa?” called Dorothy.