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"Well, my chick-a-biddies," he said, in a delightfully genial voice, beaming upon them all with the kindest blue eyes Mollie had ever seen, "and what has everybody been doing? And where is Grizzel?" As he spoke he lifted Baby into his arms, ignoring the jammy little fingers, laid a hand on Mollie's head, and looked round inquiringly for his missing daughter.
By prettily filial attentions to Mollie's mother his cause will be materially strengthened, and though the young lady may grudge the time he spends in discussing politics or stocks and shares with her father, her own common sense will tell her that it is a very good investment for the future.
"You are dying," was Mollie's solemn answer. "Oh, my mother! why did you not tell me this before?" "Because I would not disgrace you and drag you down. I loved you far too well for that. I could have done nothing for you but bespatter you with the mire in which I wallowed, and I wanted you, my beautiful one my pearl, my lily to be spotless as mountain snow.
Linking their arms within Mollie's her rescuers hurried her along. Straight to the water's edge they ran, then a cry of consternation went up from the two girls. "O Madge! what shall we do? We forgot all about the tide," mourned Phil.
"I thought it was all a dream, and that you were not coming. You will take me with you again, won't you? I did love yesterday." Prudence smiled and took Mollie's hands in her own. "We need not waste time talking to-day," she said. "Listen to the music."
His nostrils curved, his brows arched, his lips opened to pronounce a sharp disclaimer, when suddenly he caught sight of Mollie's face gazing at him across the table; and if ever a face cried "Don't!" with all the eloquence of pleading eyes and parted lips, Mollie's said it at that moment.
In the meantime Grannie and Aunt Mary were both too much engrossed in the puzzle to notice the rather peculiar expression on Mollie's face, and soon she too became absorbed in the puzzle under her eyes, and forgot for the moment the stranger puzzle in her mind. When Mollie's breakfast-tray came up next morning, the first thing she saw on it was a letter from Dick. She seized it and tore it open.
"Dodo," cried Mollie as the child started up the walk, "scrape some of that mud off your feet before you come up, You will get Betty's porch all dirty." "Name's Dora not Dodo," the little girl answered, paying not the slightest heed to Mollie's caution about the mud. "Dodo's a baby's name don't like it. Got something for you."
Less accustomed to Polly's writing Esther read the note aloud slowly and then it was that Mollie's and Betty's positions were changed, and Mollie became instead of the comforted the comforter.
Lady Margot looked her curiosity, and, when the nature of the game was explained in detail in Mollie's breezy language, went into peals of delighted laughter, and rocked to and fro in her chair. "How lovely oh, how lovely! I do think it is too funny! I must call you Berengaria and Lucille. Do you mind? Such wonderful names! How did you manage to hit on them?