Dorothy did not answer, but her face softened, and her arm stole up about his neck.
"Dot," said Mary, presently, "do not forget the matter we talked of last evening,—that your father was to know."
"And pray, what is that?" the old gentleman asked briskly.
"Come into the library, father, with Mary and me, and we will tell you." And slipping her hand around his arm, she started to lead him in. Mary was about to follow, when he turned to her and held out his other arm. With an answering smile she placed her hand within it, and all three went inside.
Aunt Lettice had gone off to her own apartments, taking 'Bitha for her usual morning instructing, and so they were not likely to be disturbed.
As soon as her father was seated, Dorothy, standing by the window, burst forth with her accustomed vehemence.
"I want to tell you, father," she exclaimed, "that I am sure Aunt Penine is a loyalist!"
"Chut, chut!" he replied reprovingly. But he smiled, used as he was to the differences betwixt his daughter and her exacting relative.
"I have good reason for what I say," Dorothy insisted; "and Mary can tell you so, as well."
"Well, child, first tell me all about it, and do not begin by misnaming any one," her father said gently.