"In Dublin?" echoed Major Campbell, bringing his eyes and his thoughts from the winding road and concentrating both upon Mollie. "Are you a thought-reader, Miss Mollie? For I was thinking of Dublin at that very moment. Yes, I have been there. Indeed, it was there that I first met Miss Gordon, at a ball at Dublin Castle. I was visiting some people she knew, and later on she joined us. My sisters were over here at that time too. Has Miss Gordon ever mentioned the O'Rourkes to you?"
"Yes," said Mollie, feeling absolutely giddy with excitement, "that is, no—not exactly——" she felt very confused—"I mean—was there a Desmond O'Rourke?"
"That's right," said Major Campbell, nodding his grey head, and apparently too wrapped up in his own memories to notice Mollie's confused answer. "Good old Desmond! Of course he was home then too. Dublin was a very different place in those days, and we had what you youngsters would call the time of our lives. It was a long time ago—long, long ago." He sighed, and his thoughts evidently wandered away again from his agitated little companion, which Mollie felt was a good thing, as, if he had been observing her closely, he would certainly have thought that the poor child was "not quite on the spot".
She was now quite convinced that this was really Hugh, the brother of Prudence and Grizzel. He showed no signs of remembering her, but, of course, she said to herself, what was only yesterday to her was forty years ago to this elderly man—and, besides, perhaps the Time-travelling was all hers and Prue's and he was never really in it at all. "Like Alice in the Red King's dream," she thought vaguely. She felt sure, too, that it was he who had given Aunt Mary the green diamond long ago, though why he had never married her was past Mollie's power of understanding. Grown-up people did—and left undone—the most incomprehensible things. In the meantime she felt that she would like to give her aunt some sort of warning of the surprise in store, otherwise Aunt Mary might be too much surprised. Mollie herself hated with all her might and main showing her feelings before people—but how to prepare Aunt Mary! That was the difficulty. She put all her Guiding wits to work, but nothing feasible suggested itself. There was no boy to send ahead with a message, and, of course, she could not send Major Campbell himself. How on earth could she get even the slightest warning conveyed.
The had begun to climb the hill which led to Chauncery gate; Long
John's enthusiasm cooled a little, and he dropped into a jogging zigzag
walk. Major Campbell was looking about him with interest, "Just the way
I did," Mollie thought—and then the idea came.
"I'm going to signal to Aunt Mary that we are nearly home," she warned her companion, "so that she'll have tea ready," and, putting her hands to her mouth, she gave a long, shrill "cooo-eeeee!" "Now," she said to herself, "that should remind her of Australia and Desmond O'Rourke and green diamonds."
But Mollie's brilliant idea had not exactly the effect she expected. When the sound of that shrill cooo-eeeee penetrated to the morning-room, Aunt Mary did indeed think of Australia, but she also thought, naturally enough, that the children were in difficulties and needed her help. So, a few minutes later, Mollie and Major Campbell saw a slim figure, clad in a short skirt and jumper, running down the hill as fast as a pair of active feet could carry it.
"Oh, dear!" Mollie exclaimed, "Aunt Mary thinks something is wrong, and when she sees no boys and you here instead she will think it is wronger."
"That can't be Mary Gordon!" exclaimed Major Campbell. "She doesn't look much older than you!"
"It is, though," Mollie replied hurriedly, more flashes of genius scintillating through her brain. "Jump out and meet her, Major Campbell, and tell her we are all right."