"Why, there isn't much to tell. It reads like a note of thanks for different presents you've sent. It brings in the name of the firm once or twice, and puffs 'em up in an accidental way. The mother of one of the fellows read his, and thought it was the real thing. He had no end of trouble explaining."
This time Peggy joined in Graham's laughter, and she was thankful that Ruth's unconscious brother did not guess the tension of feeling beneath her merriment. Peggy only wished she had wings to fly to Ruth, and tell her that all was well. She fought against an alarming impulse to cry on the spot, to relieve her own overcharged heart. But as it happened, the fates had provided another outlet. There was no immediate danger of Peggy's losing her head from joy.
"Where's Dorothy?"
She flung the frightened question full in Graham's face. The young fellow stood staring.
"Dorothy? Was she with you?"
"Yes. She was right here. She can't have gotten far away. O, how could I forget her? How could I?"
They pushed through the crowd to the curb, looking wildly in both directions. Standing at Graham's elbow, Peggy babbled on almost incoherently.
"Red coat, Graham, and a red hood. It was only a minute ago. O, why did I do it? Can't you see a little girl all in red? O, what will mother say?"
"Look here, Peggy, you want to keep your head." The sharpness of Graham's tone was like a dash of cold water, disagreeable but effective. "Dorothy won't be hurt because she's out of your sight for a minute. But if you're going to be any help, you must stop this."
Peggy gasped a little, and followed meekly, pale and trembling, but controlling herself by a mighty effort. The policeman at the corner had not seen any little girl in red wandering off by herself, but he took a reassuring view of the situation.