“It is wonderful to have you here after all this time,” cried Jessie, snuggling close to her guardian as she spoke. “I feel as if any minute you’re likely to fade away just as the ghosts and visions do in the moving pictures.”
There was a general laugh, and then Evelyn broke in, gallantly.
“I protest,” she said, stoutly. “I deny that our guardian is a ghost.”
“No; but she is a vision,” said a voice behind them, and Lucile slipped noiselessly into the circle.
“Goodness, Lucile, anybody would think you were the redskin you look like,” commented Dorothy, a trifle sharply, for she had started in a most undignified manner.
“See, you frightened the child, Lucile,” said Marjorie, aggravatingly. “You should be more careful with one so young.”
“What do you call yourself?” retorted Dorothy, and Lucile saw it was high time she took a hand in the argument.
“Don’t tease, Marj,” she admonished. “And don’t get mad about nothing, Dotty—I mean Dot,” she corrected quickly, as Dorothy eyed her menacingly.
“I don’t wonder she draws the line at Dotty,” laughed Jessie. “I haven’t called you that for two weeks, Dot; I’ve kept track.”
“When you haven’t called me that for two years,” said Dorothy, graciously, “I’ll begin to think you’re improving.”