"The world is a pretty mixed-up place," said the housekeeper. "I want your way to be straight and clear, Miss Dolly."
There was a pause again, at the end of which Dolly repeated, "Thank you, Mrs. Jersey. You have cleared up the mist for me."
"I hear it in your voice," said her friend, smiling. "It has got its clear, sweet ring again. Is all the trouble disposed of?"
"Oh no!" said Dolly, a shadow crossing her face anew; "but I am relieved of one great perplexity. That was not all my trouble;—I cannot tell you all. I wish I could! One thing,—I want to see my father dreadfully, to talk to him about mother's going travelling; and I cannot get sight of him. He stays in London. And time is flying."
"Write," said the housekeeper.
"Oh, I have written. And I have sent messages. I would go up to London myself, but I cannot go alone."
"Miss Dolly," said the housekeeper, after a minute's thought, "perhaps I can help here too. I have to go up to London for a few days, and was thinking to go next week. If you will trust yourself to me, I will take you, and take care of you."
Dolly was overjoyed at this suggestion. A little more conversation to settle preliminaries and particulars, and Dolly set off on her way home with a much lightened heart.
"Ah me!" thought the housekeeper, as she stood at the door looking after her, "how hard we do make it for each other in this world!"