“Ah, well, dearie, I am sorry, too—but of course ’ee must be guided by ’ee gardeen, little lady, and I hope ’ee’ll take no harm. ’Ee clothes are all dry and ready for ’ee, and I’ll wrap ’ee up warm and nice for ’ee little journey,” said the dame.
“And now, uncle, you will please to withdraw! You see there is only this one room and we must take turns.”
Colonel de Crespigney smiled good-humoredly enough as he left the house to walk up and down in the crisp, cold winter air outside.
Dame Lindsay brought the girl’s clothes from the chair over which they had been hanging near the fire.
“Granny Lindsay, where has David Lindsay gone?” inquired Gloria, as she arose and began to dress herself.
“Down to the shore to look after his boat, I reckon, lovie; or maybe he has crossed to the main to bring a load of brushwood.”
“He hurried away as soon as I awoke and you came in.”
“Yes, dearie, he did so to give you a chance to get up and dress, I reckon.”
“Will he be back before I go?”
“I hope so, dearie.”