But Vennie herself was too astonished at the sight which met her eyes to notice anything of this. Seated opposite one another, on either side of the solitary’s kitchen-fire, were Lacrima and the little Dolores. Vennie had interrupted a lively and impassioned colloquy between the two Italians.
They both rose at her entrance, and their host, in hurried nervous speech, gave Vennie an incoherent account of what had happened.
When they were all seated,—Vennie in the little girl’s chair, and the child on Mr. Quincunx’s knees,—the embarrassment of the first surprise quickly subsided.
“I shall adopt her,” the solitary kept repeating,—as though the words were uttered in a defiance of universal opposition, “I shall adopt her. You’d advise me to do that, wouldn’t you Miss Seldom?
“I shall get a proper document made out, so that there can be no mistake. I shall adopt her. Whatever anyone likes to say, I shall adopt her!
“Those circus-scoundrels will hold their tongues and let me alone for their own sakes. I shall have no trouble. Lacrima will explain to the police who the child is, and who her parents were. That is, if the police come. But they won’t come. Why should they come? I shall have a document drawn out.”
It seemed as though the little Neapolitan knew by instinct what her protector was saying, for she nestled down against his shoulder and taking one of his hands in both of hers pressed it against her lips.
Vennie gazed at Lacrima, and Lacrima gazed at Vennie, but neither of them spoke. There was an inner flame of triumphant concentration in Vennie’s glance, but Lacrima’s look was clouded and sad.
“Certainly no one will interfere with you,” said Vennie at last. “We shall all be so glad to think that the child is in such good hands.
“The only difficulty I can see,” she paused a moment, while the grey eyes of Mr. Quincunx opened wide and an expression of something like defiance passed over his face, “is that it’ll be difficult for you to know what to do with her while you are away in Yeoborough. You could hardly leave her alone in this out-of-the-way place, and I’m afraid our Nevilton National School wouldn’t suit her at all.”