"Yes; I am to go afterward."
"And you mean to talk to her about Kate?"
"Yes."
"What about her?"
"Well, her vacation for one thing, poor darling! How is she to get better, living on all alone here?"
"She needn't," said Molly, beginning to skip as she walked; "it is all arranged in the most beautiful, perfect way. I will just tell you now, Cecil, for you can think it over during dinner, and then we can discuss the thing in all its bearings later on. Grannie—you know what a brick she is?"
"I should rather think I do," said Cecil warmly.
"Well," continued Molly, "she can't have me this Christmas. That love for silence seems to grow and grow upon her. The poor darling will soon bring herself to such a pass that she won't even be able to stand the creaking of a chair; but what heavenly plan do you think she has suggested? I am not to go to her, but I am to have a jolly, jolly, merry, merry Christmas, for all that. Oh, Cecil, and it will help you too, and those boys of yours, and Kate! Oh, I think it is just too perfect! I do think grannie has the sweetest thoughts in all the world. Aren't you quite delighted?"
"But you forget, you have not told me yet," said Cecil.