Page 55 - An Australian Lassie

When they opened the dining-room door the table was set for luncheon, and a bald-headed gentleman was
waiting at the head of it, a book propped up before him.

When the girls came in he went on reading just as before, deaf to their chatter, blind to the pretty blue of their
dresses.

Alma ran down the room to him, and kissed the top of his head.

"Home again, father!" she said.

And then he looked up smiling, and stroked her little sallow face with one finger.

"This is my very dearest friend--Dorothea Bruce!" said Alma delightedly, and drawing Dot forward.

The great doctor, who was small in stature, stood up then and took little Dot's hand in his, and a very kindly
smile came to his eyes as he looked into her lovely childish face.

"T'm very glad to see my daughter's dearest friend," he said, and he patted her soft pink cheeks also.

The door opened again just as this introduction was over, and a new nervousness attacked Alma. Another
tinge of yellowness crept into her skin, her eyes grew wistful, and she began to stammer.

"My f-friend, mother--Thea--Dorothea Bruce," and Dot turned curiously and shyly round to the door. Entering
there was a very beautiful woman in a tea gown. Her eyes were like Alma's, only far lovelier, her complexion
was only a few years less fresh and perfect than Dorothea's own--and her hair was red-gold and beautiful.

When her glance rested on Dorothea's face, a look of pleasure crept into them--just pleasure at seeing any one
so flower-like and sweet as this little maid from school.

"T am very pleased to see you, dear," she said graciously, and she stooped forward and kissed the girl's cheek.

Then she looked at Alma--poor undersized Alma, with her yellow skin and bloodless lips--and she sighed. But
she kissed her also, and asked how she had spent her morning and whether she had come from school this
morning or yesterday afternoon.

When luncheon became the order of the day conversation died out. Dr. Montague, indeed made two or three
attempts at light talk--but Dot was shy and Alma was nervous and Mrs. Montague was apparently elsewhere
in thought, so that presently silence fell.

Dinner was at seven that night. Tt was a meal of many courses, several wines two servants, and finger glasses.
And again Dot was perfectly if silently happy--although the finger glasses (of which she had seen none
before) threw, her off her balance until she had stolen a glance at Alma to "see how she did," whereupon Dot
performed the operation with infinitely more grace than Alma.

Alma wore a white silk dress and gold sash, and Dorothea white muslin and gold sash, and the doctor's eyes
went from one little whitely clad maid to the other, smilingly.

The happy look on his small daughter's face pleased him greatly.

His wife often said he neither saw nor heard what was going on around him, but he had very soon discovered
his little girl's supreme contentment.