She looked up frankly as she gave him her hand and said:
“Thank you for taking charge of me.”
“And making a fool of myself? It was in a good cause, at any rate. But what I wanted you to say was——”
She did not hear, for the door had opened, and he only waited a moment inside the house to explain her husband’s absence to Mrs. Alexander. The news arrested her greeting to Dosia, whom she held tentatively by the hand as she repeated:
“Justin went back to the fire! Oh, I’m so sorry! Do you think that it was very bad?”
“The paper said not.”
“It must be out now, anyway. I’m so disappointed that he did not come home, and I have such a nice little dinner. Will you not stay, Lawson?”
“Thank you—I wish I could.” There was a penetrative, lingering flash of those still quizzical eyes at Dosia as he made his adieus, and then he was gone. Why should she feel alone?
Her cousin’s arms were at last around her in welcome, the warmer for being deferred; and the little Zaidee, whom she would have known from Justin’s description of her, was standing first on one tiptoe and then on the other, waiting to be kissed before going off to bed, as she announced. From above came the sound of small running feet, and a child’s voice calling:
“Cousin Dosia—I want to see my Cousin Dosia!” A bare foot and leg surmounted by a fluttering scrap of white raiment was thrust through the balusters, followed by a protesting scream as his nurse heavily pursued the fugitive with upraised voice: