"Isn't she?"
"Not the slightest. And my mother, I do believe, likes her better than anybody in the world."
"Not better'n you—her own girl?"
"Just as well, I'm sure. And it's all right, too. I would not have it otherwise. They say this Mr. Tierney has always been kindness itself to you and the children; I should think you ought to love him just as well as if he were your big brother."
"Do you think so—really?"
"I know it."
Something of perplexed sadness fell away from the child's face, and just then the measured beat of young feet being marched through the halls proclaimed that school was dismissed. Lucy turned quickly and grasped at Camille.
"Say, I don't know where to go nor how to get at him. I don't know where to write to him, even. If you'd tell Miss Lav'lotte, don't you b'lieve she'd go with me, or something? She's so kind."
"Of course she would. I'll tell her."
"And see here, you—you won't tell anybody else?" speaking low and hurriedly for the children were at the door.