There was no show of emotion, but the girl saw that no grief could be keener.
"I am so sorry," said Dorothy.
"Yes, my dear, I am sure you are. And your father knew him well. They were very old friends."
"I have heard him speak of Mr. Stevens."
"Yes, I suppose you have. Well, his troubles are over, I hope. But, Dorothy, I sent to ask you about that story some of the young ladies have been circulating about you. Of course it is all nonsense—"
"What story have you reference to, Mrs. Pangborn?"
"You must have heard it. That you and Octavia were seen getting out of a police patrol wagon in Dalton. It is absurd, of course."
"But we did ride in a patrol wagon, Mrs. Pangborn," answered Dorothy, trying hard to keep Viola's tearful face before her mind, to guide her in her statements.
"How foolish, child. It might have been a joke—Tell me about it!"
"If you would excuse me, Mrs. Pangborn, and not think me rude, I would rather not," said Dorothy, her cheeks aflame.