"No, no! I dream! I am asleep!" cried the señorita, putting her hands on Mary Lee's shoulders and gazing into her eyes.
"You are wide awake. Oh, isn't it too good to be true? But it is true."
"And he, Mr. Pinckney, does he know?"
"I think he must by now. Mother and Aunt Helen are telling him."
"Will he be—will he——?"
"Will he be glad? I should think so. I can just imagine how overjoyed he will be. Come, let us find them. No, there they come now."
The señorita stood still with bowed head waiting. Down the path came Mr. Pinckney on as fast a trot as his weight would allow. "My little girl—Jack's little girl," he said tremblingly as he came up to the señorita. He held out his arms. "Aren't you going to forgive your old grandfather?" he faltered.
The señorita looked up. The tears were rolling down the dear man's face. She made a step forward. "Oh, how I shall love you," she murmured as she put her arms around his neck and began to sob.
"There, there, darling, don't cry," said the old gentleman patting her on the back while her own eyes ran. "My Jack's little girl! Thank God I've found her.
"It's all due to these blessed children," he said when he had led her to a seat. "Where are the darlings? You won't be jealous, Dolores, if I keep on loving them, will you? I can't help it."