"I am wanted more than you think. I must give mother a piece of my Christmas Day."
"Well, you're all coming to us at Sorrento, remember; and that will be charming. We will go everywhere together. And Sandie;—you will be with us, Sandie? in the spring, at the villa? Oh, you must!"
"If I possibly can," he said gravely.
"And Sandie will take you home now, as you must go. I see he is ready."
Dolly would have objected, but she could not alter this arrangement; and Mr. Shubrick walked home with her. It was a very matter-of-fact walk, however. There was as nearly as possible no conversation between the two. Nevertheless, the walk had its fascination for Dolly. The stately, straight, manly figure beside her, inspired her with an admiration which had a little awe mixed with it; to walk with him, even in silence, was an undoubted pleasure; and when he took leave of her at the door of her lodgings and turned away, Dolly felt, and not till then, that her holiday was over.
She went up the stairs slowly. Her short holiday was over. Now work again. Well! Dolly remembered the conclusion of last night's thoughts in the moonlight; took up her burden on her shoulders, and carried it up stairs with her.
She found her mother alone.
"Dearest mother, how do you do?" she said, kissing her; "and how has the day been? I have stayed away pretty late, but I could hardly help it; and I have had a very nice time."
"I don't like holidays," was Mrs. Copley's answer. "They're the wearisomest days I know; especially when every one else is out and enjoying himself. This Christmas has been a year long, seems to me. Who did you see?"
"Just themselves, and Christina's friend, Mr. Shubrick."