"
"And have they tracked him?" asked Tavia.
"Yes, they know he left Mr. Burlock in Rochester. He cashed a check
there that Mr. Burlock gave him for what the poor man thought would be a
possible clew to little Nellie's whereabouts, and to think that the
disappointment killed the disheartened father!"
"Well, I only hope they have him now," said Tavia, "I would like to have
another chance at his--hat."
Then the conversation drifted back to North Birchland. Both girls looked
much benefited by their visit, and even Tavia's short hair and unnatural
red cheeks did not detract from the noticeable improvement. Dorothy's
face had rounded some too, and the Lake air had given a ruddiness to her
naturally delicate tinting, that was most becoming to her as a summer
girl.
"I never saw such nice boys," remarked Tavia, "I think, after all, it
takes money to polish people."
"Not at all," insisted Dorothy. "It is not money but good breeding.
There are plenty of poor persons who are just as polished as you call
it. Father often told us about a family he visited when he was abroad.
They were so poor in clothes--pathetically shabby, and yet they went in
the very best society. Father used to make us laugh by his funny
descriptions of the ladies at dinners. At the same affairs would be
Thomas Carlyle, and just think, these poor people--he was a parson,
lived on the very ground that was once part of the garden of Sir Thomas
Moore.
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