"No, it is true I have not, but what is there that I can say to him? No, Hobbs, I have no friends left—only you, my good brave companion; but it is very wrong of me to make you share my sad existence. It is selfish of me. Hobbs, you shall not stay much longer. You must leave me ... not just yet, but soon" ...
The good woman, melted to tears, asked what she had done to deserve to be sent away. She vowed she was quite happy, and her tears fell in great hot drops on Dora's hands, that she kissed with avidity.
"If Mr. Lorimer does not come to see you, why don't you write and ask him to come? He would not wait to be asked twice, I know! He at least has always been a real friend, and I am sure is devoted to you."
"That is true," said Dora.
"And then he is so merry; it does you good to look at him. He carries gaiety wherever he goes. And he is so kind! Write to him, and I will guarantee that he will rush out here as soon as he gets your letter."
"Yes, Hobbs, you are right, and I will do it to-day."
She immediately took pen and paper and wrote to Lorimer.
"Hobbs, you don't happen to know who the people are that are living in our old house, I suppose?"
"No, ma'am," said Hobbs, rather scared at the question.
"Try to find it out."