This was not very polite, and Willy shrugged his shoulders, and said to himself, "After all, I am glad she is not my cousin."
Irene was really thankful when Willy said it was time to go, for her head ached, and she was far more tired than Dorothy was.
And now poor Dorothy began to cry, and say she did not want Irene to go away—that she must stay with her, and not go and live with that big boy who was so greedy.
"Hush! hush! my dear," said Ingleby; "you must not forget yourself."
"I don't mind," said Willy, good-temperedly; "she is only a baby, and is tired."
"A baby!" sobbed Dorothy. "I am not a baby, and I love Irene, and she is not to go away with you."
Ingleby was anxious to cut the parting short, and said to Irene, who was trying to comfort Dorothy,—
"Make haste and have it over. She will forget it, and——"
"I shan't forget Irene. You said I should forget Nino—dear, dear Nino. I don't forget him, and now—now I have lost him, I want Irene, I do!"
"I shall see you very often," Irene said, kissing her; "don't begin to cry again."