"No. Oh no. I mean, nobody in the house. Aunt Harry and Uncle Ned are at Baxter's. Aunt Harry only left me an hour or two ago, when it was time to expect you."
"It was very kind of her to leave you!" said Sandie frankly.
"We have been here a fortnight. When I found I could not have mother, I wrote to Aunt Hal; and she came."
"What was the matter with your mother?"
Dolly half unwound herself from the arms that held her, and turned her face away. She was trying to choke something down that threatened to stop her speech.
"Father"——
"What of him?" said Sandie with a grave change of tone.
"I am not sorry," said Dolly. "But, oh! to think that I should not be sorry!" She covered her face.
Sandie was silent, waiting and wondering. It could not be Mr. Copley's death that was in question; but what then could it be? He waited, to let Dolly take her own time. Neither did he have to wait long.
"You remember," she began, still with her face turned away,—"you remember what I told you one day in Brierley Park—about father?"