At the sight of another stranger Madaline could feel Mary shrink back, and the faint sigh that escaped her lips was noticed by Grace as well.
"You will love Aunt Audrey," said Grace in Mary's ear. "She is only aunt to Cleo, but we all call her Aunt Audrey, and she's just lovely." This in the most reassuring tones.
"Oh, yes," Mary answered, conscious her tremor of timidity had been noticed. "She looks so—so like my own Loved One as I remember her. I was thinking I may make a lot of mistakes, but you will excuse them?"
The round of chuckles, and the merry twitters given her in lieu of formal opinions, restored her sinking spirits somewhat, but each of the three attentive, sympathetic girls keenly realized Mary's discomfiture.
"Well, well!" exclaimed Mrs. Dunbar as they drew in. "Whatever became of you all? If Mally Mack had not met me at the station, and told me you were going for a mountain drive, I should have been a little bit worried."
"We brought you company, Aunt Audrey," Cleo answered, before Jennie had a chance to offer any explanation. "This is Mary Benson, you know. The little girl we met when we first came to Bellaire."
"Oh, yes. How do you do, Mary?" Mrs. Dunbar greeted the now really frightened little girl. "It's so lovely to have you come and visit my little ones. You see, they thought three would be really a crowd, and that they would never grow lonely for home, but I have noticed the tell-tale signs lately. Now, a real visitor will be the very best thing to effect a cure," and she was urging Mary into the house, quite as if her presence were indispensable for the evening's happiness.
The big, soft, dark eyes set so deep in the olive skin, just tinted now with a trace of excitement's color, gazed up into Mrs. Dunbar's face with all the yearning and longing of a lonely, forsaken child.
"Thank you," Mary managed to articulate, but the effort was mingled with a little choking sob.
Jennie drew Mrs. Dunbar into the library while the girls proceeded to the living room.