A horseman came dashing furiously up the avenue. It was her uncle, Mr.
Horace Dinsmore. He threw himself from the saddle and hurried into the
house, and the next minute two more followed at the same headlong pace.
These were Cal and Dr. Barton, and they also dismounted in hot haste and
disappeared from her sight beneath the veranda. Certainly something very
dreadful had happened. Oh would nobody come to tell her!
The minutes dragged their slow length along seeming like hours. She lay
back in her chair in an agony of suspense, the perspiration standing in
cold drops on her brow.
But the sound of wheels roused her and looking out she saw the Oaks and
Ion carriages drive up, young Horace and Rosie alight from the one, Mr.
Travilla and Elsie from the other.
"Oh!" thought Molly, "Cousin Elsie will be sure to think of me directly
and I shall not be left much longer in this horrible suspense."
Her confidence was not misplaced. Not many minutes had elapsed when her
door was softly opened, a light step crossed the floor and a sweet fair
face, full of tender compassion, bent over the grief-stricken girl.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146