“What!” he exclaimed, incredulously.
Just then Lacy himself came to the top of the steps with open arms, so to speak, and carried off Mrs. Smith into the house. Miss Mignon took advantage of the opportunity to run down the steps just as Bootles helped Madame Gourbolska to the ground.
“I welcome you with much pleasure,” he said, cordially—“Miss Grace also,” as he gave her his hand to jump the last step. “I am afraid you are tired. You are very white.”
“I am tired,” she said, in a low voice, not looking at him, but at the child.
“It is so bitterly cold. Don’t stand a moment. Mignon, will you go in?”
Miss Mignon skipped up the steps, and the Russian lady caught her in her arms.
“Oh, you little angel! and what is your name?”
“I’m Miss Mignon. You’re a very pretty lady,” returned Mignon, critically. “I wanted to go to the station, but Bootles said it was too cold, and Lal—”
“Madame does not know what Bootles and Lal mean,” interrupted Bootles.
“This is Bootles, and that’s Lal,” Miss Mignon informed her. “I’m Miss Mignon, and I belong to Bootles.”