Troubled as she was, Dolly laughed at the staid expression on her small, discreet face; but even as she laughed she caught the child in her arms and kissed her.
“What should we do without you!” she exclaimed. “We need some one to keep us all straight, we Vagabonds; but it seems queer that such a small wiseacre as you should be our controlling power.”
The mere sight of the small wiseacre had a comforting effect upon her. Her spirits began to rise, and she so far recovered herself as to be able to look matters in the face more cheerfully. There was so much to talk about, and so many questions to ask, that it would have been impossible to remain dejected and uninterested. It was not until after tea, however, that Aimée brought her “business” upon the carpet. She had thought it best not to introduce the subject during the earlier part of the evening; but when the tea-tray was removed, and they found themselves alone again, she settled down, and applied herself at once to the work before her.
“I have not told you yet what I came here for this afternoon,” she said.
“You don't mean to intimate that you did not come to see me!” said Dolly.
“I came to see you, of course,” decidedly; “but I came to see you for a purpose. I came to talk to you about Mollie.”
Dolly almost turned pale.
“Mollie!” she exclaimed. “What is the trouble about Mollie?”
“Something that puzzles me,” was the answer. “Dolly, do you know anything about Gerald Chandos?”
“What!” said Dolly. “It is Gerald Chandos, is it? He is not a fit companion for her, I know that much.”