nted to know too much."

"Have you yet found what you were looking for?" Laine leaned back in
his chair and shaded his eyes with his hand.

"Yes." She laughed lightly and got up. "You can find anything, I
guess, if you look for it right. And in such unexpected places you
find things!" She stopped and listened. "I believe people are going
home. Please take me to Hope. I can't imagine what made us stay in
here so long!"

IX

DOROTHEA ASKS QUESTIONS

At the library window Dorothea drew the curtains aside and looked up
and down the street. Presently she blew softly upon the pane and
with her finger made on it four large letters, then rubbed them out
and went back to the mantel, before whose mirror, on tiptoe, she
surveyed the bow on her hair and straightened it with care.

"I don't see why they don't come," she said, aggrievedly, smoothing
down her skirt. "It's time, and I'm going to ring for tea, anyhow.
Mother said I could pour it, and I'll play lady all by myself if
nobody comes to play it with. I believe"--she turned her head--"I
believe they're coming now."

Again she went to the window, then rang for tea. "Quick, Timkins;
please hurry and bring it in before they come," she said. "They'll
be frozen." And as Timkins disappeared she put a fresh log on the
fire, drew the table closer to it, and seated herself at it.

"I'm a chaperone lady. I'm chaperoning my Uncle Winthrop and my
Cousin Claudia!" In gleeful delight she rocked backward and forward
and twisted her hands together tightly. "I'm sorry mother has a
headache, but I certainly am glad I can pour tea for them. I don't
know why anybody wants to go horseback-riding on a day like this,
though; I'd freeze." She straightened the embroidered cloth on the
table as Timkins put the tray on it, and lighted the lamp under the
kettle, and, taking up the tea-caddy, she measured out a generous
amount of its contents.

"I'll be careful and not get burnt up." She waved Timkins out.
"They're coming right in. It's the funniest thing about Uncle
Winthrop," she went on, as if to the tea-cups she was arranging. "He
didn't want to come and see Cousin Claudia, and now he comes here
every day. Wouldn't it be funny if he wanted her for a
sweetheart--and wouldn't it be grand!" Her arms were thrown out and
then hugged rapturously to her bosom; but instantly her face sobered.
"He can't have her, though, because she's somebody else's. I wonder
if he k