CHAPTER XIX
DOUBTS
Alva was sitting in her room, her hands clasped behind her head in her favorite thinking attitude when Lassie returned from her walk to the Lower Falls. The face of the older friend wore its habitual look of far-away absorption as the young girl entered, but the look was almost rivalled by Lassie's own look—for Lassie had returned from the Lower Falls with what was to be her own private and personal absorption forever after.
"Had you a pleasant time?" Alva asked.
"Oh, it was beautiful!" the young girl exclaimed, "we had such fun, too," she stopped, and hesitated; then something in the other's face made her ask: "Are they gone?"
Alva shook her head. "No, dear, they've received their warning, but they've not gone."
"Oh," said Lassie, relieved, "then they won't be in jail this night, anyway."
"No, nor any other night," Alva said, quietly; "I shall not let those women suffer shame and humiliation when a little money can prevent it."
"You are going to pay their bills!"
"No, but I am going to help them pay them."