"I don't see what you can mean," said Marcia, mystified.
"Well, it's quite a long story, but I really think you'd better know all about it, Marcia," said Dolly.
And so, with occasional help from Bessie herself, when Dolly forgot something, or when Bessie's ideas disagreed with hers, Dolly poured the story of the adventures of Bessie and Zara since their flight from Hedgeville into Marcia's ears.
"Why, I never heard of such a thing!" Marcia exclaimed, when the story was told. "So that fire last night wasn't an accident at all?"
"We're quite sure it wasn't, Marcia. And don't you think it looks as if we were right?"
"It certainly does, and I think it's dreadful, Dolly—just dreadful. Oh, Bessie, I am so sorry for you!"
She threw her arms about Bessie impulsively and kissed her, while Dolly, delighted, looked on.
"Doesn't it make you love her more than ever?" she said. "And Bessie is so foolish about it sometimes. She seems to think that girls won't want to have anything to do with her, because she hasn't had a home and parents like the rest of us—or like most of us."
"That is awfully silly, Bessie," said Marcia. "As if it was your fault! People are going to like you for what you are, and for the way you behave—not on account of things that you really haven't a thing to do with. Sensible people, I mean. Of course, if they're like Gladys—but then most people aren't, I think."
"Of course they're not!" said Dolly, stoutly. "And, besides, I'm just sure that Bessie is going to find out about her father and mother some day. I don't believe Mr. Holmes would be taking all the trouble he has about her unless there were something very surprising about her history that we don't know anything about. Do you, Marcia?"