Fairy's disappointment was quite in proportion to the vivid anticipations she had held, and she was on the verge of one of her volcanic crying spells, when Mr. Hickox came in.
"Well, well, what's the trouble?" he said in his cheery way, and when Fairy explained, he responded:
"Well, well, little miss, don't you worry,—don't you worry one mite! Hickox'll fix it. It'll be all right!"
And so comforting was this assurance, and so sanguine was the Dorrance temperament, that Fairy felt at once that everything was all right, and dismissed the whole subject from her mind.
CHAPTER XV
A SUDDEN DETERMINATION
One afternoon, Dorothy sat on the front veranda, day-dreaming.
It was difficult to say which was the front veranda,—the one that faced the road, or the one that looked out on the lake. The house could be considered to front either way.
But Dorothy was on the veranda that faced the road, and it was a lovely warm, hazy day, almost the last of June, and notwithstanding her responsibilities, Dorothy was in a happy frame of mind.