“Oh, don't I know it, my darling; and if you had as much to do with Aunt Vi Truefitt as I have, you would realize how often my spirits turn topsy-turvy. I often hope that I'll be Englishized quickly, so that I may get back to my dear parents. But there, Molly is coming back.”
“The telegram was for mother,” she said. “Do let us play.”
Nora looked at Molly. Her face was red; it was usually pale. Nora wondered what had brought that high color into her cheeks. Molly seemed excited, and did not want to meet her cousin's eyes.
“Come, let us have a race,” she said. “I don't want to put away childish things. I want to have a good game while I am in the humor. Let us see who will get first to the top of that hill. I like running uphill. I'm off; catch me who may!”
Molly started. Her figure was stout, and she ran in a somewhat awkward way. Nora flew after her. She soon reached her side.
“There, stop running,” she said. “What is up?”
“What is up?” echoed Molly.
“Yes; what was in that telegram?”
“The telegram was for mother.”
“But you know what was in it. I know you do.”