CHAPTER XXXV.
"WHAT AM I TO SAY?"
"So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
And yet a union in partition,
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem."
Shakespeare.
Although March set in fierce and blustering as a lion, it might have been as mild as any lamb to Waveney; for when one is young, and the blood courses freely in the veins, even a nipping east wind and grey skies are not the intolerable hardships that older people feel them, especially when a well-spring of joy is bubbling up in the heart.
Mollie was getting well—that was the key-note of Waveney's happiness. And though Althea shivered and looked depressed, as she gazed out at the uninviting prospect, and even Doreen shrugged her shoulders and made uncomplimentary remarks on the weather, Waveney only laughed and looked provokingly cheerful.
"I don't mind the long walk one bit," she returned, in answer to a pitying observation from Althea. "I shall walk as fast as possible and keep myself warm; and as for the dust, don't you know the old saying, that 'a peck of March dust is worth a king's ransom'?" But Althea smiled a little sadly as Waveney ran out of the room to put on her hat and jacket.
"How happy the child is!" she said, with an involuntary sigh. "After all, Dorrie, when one is growing old, it is pleasant to have a bright young creature about the house. Don't you remember when Aunt Sara first suggested that I should have a companion, that you looked rather blank, and said that our old cosy life would be quite spoiled?"
Althea spoke in rather a depressed voice, and Doreen looked at her anxiously.
"Yes, I remember," she replied, quietly. "The idea quite worried me. I was almost cross with Aunt Sara for mentioning it. But I am glad now that Waveney came to us," she continued, thoughtfully. "She is a dear little thing, and one can't help loving her; and then, you have found her such a comfort."