“I have five of my own to play with,” Mr. Mool answered.
“Very well. Ask for the youngest child when you go to Mrs. Gallilee’s. We call her Zo. Put your finger on her spine—here, just below the neck. Press on the place—so. And, when she wriggles, say, With the big doctor’s love.”
Getting back to his own house, Mr. Mool was surprised to find an open carriage at the garden gate. A smartly-dressed woman, on the front seat, surveyed him with an uneasy look. “If you please, sir,” she said, “would you kindly tell Miss Carmina that we really mustn’t wait any longer?”
The woman’s uneasiness was reflected in Mr. Mool’s face. A visit from Carmina, at his private residence, could have no ordinary motive. The fear instantly occurred to him that Mrs. Gallilee might have spoken to her of her mother.
Before he opened the drawing-room door, this alarm passed away. He heard Carmina talking with his wife and daughters.
“May I say one little word to you, Mr. Mool?”
He took her into his study. She was shy and confused, but certainly neither angry nor distressed.
“My aunt sends me out every day, when it’s fine, for a drive,” she said. “As the carriage passed close by, I thought I might ask you a question.”
“Certainly, my dear! As many questions as you please.”
“It’s about the law. My aunt says she has the authority over me now, which my dear father had while he was living. Is that true?”