“If she is prettier than you are she must be beautiful,” Miss Dixon had said, honestly. She was one of the few plain women who could see beauty in others and admit it.
She came into the little office while Dollie was working, only a few minutes after the talk with Mr. Atherton.
“There is a boy out in the hall looking for you, Miss Marlowe,” she said, pleasantly, “and I should judge by his looks that he had some important news. Oh, no, not bad news, I am sure!” she added, as she saw the change in Dollie’s face. “He was grinning and showing every tooth in his head. A mighty nice-looking boy, too; perhaps he is your sweetheart.”
“My sweetheart is not a boy, Miss Dixon,” said Dollie, proudly. “He is twenty years old and is a bookkeeper at a good salary. This must be Bert Jackson, one of my old neighbors in the country.”
She rose from her machine and hurried out into the hall. Sure enough, there stood Bert, very impatient, but still grinning.
“I just dropped in to tell you the good news,” said Bert, as quick as he saw her. “I’ve been adopted by a rich man, and I’m to have my choice of a future profession.”
“Oh, Bert, how lovely!” cried Dollie, enthusiastically. She could hardly believe that such good fortune had befallen him.
“His name is Captain Hobart, and he’s a millionaire, I am told,” went on Bert. “I used to always wait on him at the store where I worked, and he tells me he took a fancy to me because of my good manners. How Matt Jenkins, the keeper of the Poor Farm, would swear if he could hear that,” he said, roaring. “That’s doing pretty well for an orphan boy to be adopted by a millionaire, isn’t it, Dollie?”
“Oh, it’s just beautiful!” cried Dollie, in genuine delight. “Oh, I just wish all of the boys from the Poor Farm could have such a chance! Marion will be overjoyed to hear of it, Bert. I shall write to her this evening and tell her about it.”