DOROTHY TRIES HER HAND
It was on a mild day early in February that Susan met Dorothy Parkman on the street. She stopped her at once.
"Well, if I ain't glad to see you!" she cried. "I didn't know you'd got back."
"I haven't been back long, Susan."
"You hain't been over to see us once, Miss Dorothy," Susan reproached her.
"I—I have been very busy." Miss Dorothy seemed ill at ease, and anxious to get away.
"An' you didn't come for a long, long time when you was here last fall." Susan had laid a detaining hand on the girl's arm now.
"Didn't I?" Miss Dorothy smiled brightly. "Well, perhaps I didn't. But you didn't need me, anyway. I've heard all about it—the splendid work Mr. Burton and his son have done for John McGuire. And I'm so glad."
"Oh, yes, that's all right." Susan spoke without enthusiasm.
"And the book is going to be published?"