"And that's all you know, Nell?" exclaimed Molly.
"Yes, that's all I know."
"Now, tell me what you think."
"What I think?" replied Nell. "I—" she hesitated. "No, I'd rather not."
"You must, Nell, you must. Remember I'm your own cosy old Moll; remember I understand you, and I'm the eldest girl and mother's right hand. There's something that you think very, very hard, Nell, and you have wise thoughts, though you are so young. Tell me what they are; tell me at once."
Molly knelt on the grass as she spoke and put her arms round Nell, who leant up against her and laid her head on her shoulder.
"Now, Nell, speak."
Nell rubbed her cheek against Molly's, as if she found great comfort in the contact.
"I think that mother is unhappy," she said, "and that, that we won't get the presents."
"Come along and let's find Jane Macalister," exclaimed Molly suddenly. She caught Nell's hand and rushed with her towards the house.