"Take them to her?—no," Arthur said, decidedly. "She has another set—I bought them for her, and she wears them all day long. Ha, ha! diamonds in the morning, with a cotton gown;" and he laughed immoderately at what he thought Dolly's bad taste. "Take them to her? No! They are yours."
"But I have mother's," Jerrie pleaded; "and I cannot wear two sets."
"Yes, you can—one to-day, one to-morrow. I mean you shall have seven—one for every day in the week. What has Dolly to do with diamonds. They are for ladies, and she is only a whitewashed one."
He was very much excited, and it took all Jerrie's tact to soothe and quiet him.
"Father," she began, and he stopped at once, for the sound of that name spoken by Jerrie had a mighty power over him—"Father, listen to me a moment."
And then she told him of the suspicions cast upon Harold, and said:
"You do not wish him to suffer any more?"
"Harold? The boy who found you in the carpet-bag—Amy's boy! No, never! Where is he that I have not seen him yet? Does he know you are my daughter?"
Jerrie had not mentioned Harold before, but she told her father now where he was, and why he had gone, and that she had written him to come home, on Maude's account, if on no other.
"Yes—Maude—I remember; but Harold did not care for Maude. Still, he had better come. I want him here with you and me; and you must stay here now day and night. Select any room you please; all is yours, my daughter."