"Then, let me tell you, Miss, I shall find out for myself!" exclaimed the angry lady. "I consider you at fault for this, Lemuel. Shows your bringing up. It is sheer impudence!"
"I—I have washed my hands of it, Dora," said her brother, weakly.
"Well, you can wipe 'em, too!" snapped the lady. "But I mean to take Dora home with me when I go back—and that will be very soon," and she whisked away in her rustling skirts, leaving the father and his two daughters alone.
They twined around the little man in a moment, the two winsome, loving girls—one upon one side, the other upon the other.
"You don't want to lose Dora, do you, dear?" demanded Dorothy.
"Nor Dorothy either?" demanded Dora.
"I certainly do not, my dear girls," cried the much harassed Mr. Lockwood.
"Then we shall not tell her. We shall tell nobody. Nobody shall know which is which—as long as Aunt Dora remains, that is sure," cried Dora.
"Exactly," agreed her sister. "As long as papa doesn't wish us to go——?"
"Never!" declared Mr. Lockwood.