“That is because we are so glad to see you,” said Molly.
“That is a very pretty compliment,” laughed Angela. “But although I’m not tired, I shouldn’t mind going up to Marcia’s room just to wash my hands and take my hat off.”
“We’ll both take you,” said Molly.
They were immensely flattered; they were highly pleased. Angela ran upstairs as though she were another girl Aldworth, and had known the place all her days. Marcia’s room was immaculately neat, but it was shabbily furnished; it was one of the poorest rooms in the house. Molly earnestly wished that she could have introduced her guest into her own room.
“I wonder,” she said suddenly, “where you are going to sleep to-night?”
“With Marcia; she said so.”
“Oh, but her bed is so small, you would not be comfortable. We’d be ever so pleased if you—”
“But I prefer to sleep with Marcia, and this room is quite nice.”
Molly ran to fetch hot water, and Ethel remembered that she had a silver brush and comb which she always kept for visits which seldom occurred. She rushed away to fetch it. Angela brushed her hair, washed her hands, said that she felt as though she had been living with the Aldworths for years, and ran downstairs again.
“How nice you are,” said Molly; “we don’t feel now as though we were afraid of you.”