“Don’t worry,” soothed Henrietta. “It’s a good four months since I’ve heard a single word from my father. If he isn’t lost on one of his exploring expeditions in the heart of India or Africa or Asia, he’s been arrested for digging up somebody’s old tomb. That’s why I live with my grandmother, you know. Whenever Father hears of anything interesting to dig, no matter where it is, he just rushes off to dig it. And of course he couldn’t do that if he had me tied to his—his suspenders.”
“But you have your grandmother and so much money of your own that you wouldn’t need to be a school orphan like—like Abbie.”
“Mabel, before I’d let you be like Abbie—and you’d have to shrink an awful lot to do it and change color besides—I’d adopt you myself. It’s a promise. If anything should happen to your people, I’ll adopt you, so there! But don’t worry. Nothing is going to happen.”
While these assurances were cheering, Mabel still looked disconsolately at Abbie and at Sallie.
[CHAPTER X—MABEL FINDS A FAMILY]
Mabel, with a long afternoon before her and tempted by the pleasant day, decided to take a walk in the grove. Perhaps she could find a hickory nut. On the veranda she overtook little Lillian Thwaite, obviously waiting for some one to walk with.
“Come on, Lill,” said Mabel. “Let’s go down to the grove.”
“Can’t,” returned Lillian, shrugging her small shoulders. “I’m going in to practise my duet.”
“Then why did you put your things on?” demanded Mabel, suspiciously.
“Just for instance,” returned Lillian, pertly.