“She never told! I’m sure she didn’t!” The boy’s brown eyes brimmed over. “Now I can’t send her a letter!”
“Never mind, little man! She will write to you, and then you’ll know.” Still as he went across the hall to his room—grown suddenly so lonesome—he wondered if the omission could have been intentional. His next thought was to upbraid himself for the doubt.
Yet days multiplied, weeks slipped away, and no word came from Dolly Moon.
CHAPTER VII
A FRIEND FROM GREECE
Even the doorknob of Dolly Moon’s room looked melancholy. So Doodles felt, and he turned a little in his chair, that it might not face him. Then, more lonely, he looked back, and, while he was looking, a man and a boy came up the stairs. Although less than an hour ago he had wished that somebody else would lodge there, when the two passed the kitchen and steered straight toward Dolly’s old room, resentment rose in his loyal heart.
“It’s hers!” he muttered. “They haven’t any right to go in!”
But go in they did, each with a “queer-shaped, green bundle,” he told Blue as soon as he came.
“And the boy is ’bout as big as me,” he went on. “Do you s’pose we shall ever get acquainted?”
“Sure,” returned his brother. “Why not? You must hello to him.”