“That’s something to be thankful for,” he said; “every night I’ve dreamt he’d sent to get me back.”
“I’m afraid it’s a stony-hearted laddie,” Mrs. Wise said. “I don’t at all like to picture to myself that lonely old man.”
“But he never cared a dump for me—you ask him; why, he nearly used to get a fit sometimes if I came near him; he said I fidgeted so,” Alf said excitedly.
“He’s precious glad I cleared, I’ll bet; he only wanted some one to leave his rubbishy money to; the little mummies can have it, and welcome.”
“The who?” said the doctor.
[314]
]“Oh, those kids in Egypt,” said Alfred.
Dolly was in the corner reading the “further” letter from her publisher-elect, and surely there was a smile wrapped up with the kindly note.
“Hello, Dolly looks as if she couldn’t help it,” said Richie, the speaker of slang.
“O-o-oh!” said Dolly ruefully, “neither I can.”
Down had come many of her card-castles; flat on the earth they lay. The publisher would give her a royalty, and a fair one, on every copy, but—