"Months? Four months did you say? It seems like years! Why, it was the depth of winter then, and now it is spring, though the trees are bare yet," and Alice glanced up at the fine chestnut trees on both sides of the walk.
"I am afraid I cannot walk so fast as this if I am to talk as well," panted Doris, as she was being hurried along.
"Why, what is the matter with you? You dear thing, what is the matter? You are pale. You are ill?" Alice was looking at her now with great concern.
"Not at all. I'm all right, only I cannot walk so quickly. You walk very fast."
"How worn your clothes are!" cried Alice, scrutinising her closely. "And how thin you are! Doris, I believe you are starving."
"Nothing of the sort." A bright colour had come into Doris's face now, making it look more beautiful than ever, although it was so thin.
"Have you had a good breakfast?" questioned practical Alice.
"Yes. Mrs. Austin saw to that. She is very good to me."
"Oh, Doris!" Alice read between the lines. Her friend had been suffering want; indeed, was suffering it now.
"I am all right," declared Doris again. "Come, tell me, dear, what is the work you have found for me to do?"