And at once Molly forgot how disagreeable Aunt Maria had always been, and how she hated her. She ran to her aunt and threw her arms round her neck. Aunt Maria jumped in her seat, but she let the arms stay where they were, though they made it quite difficult for her to use her handkerchief.
'Don't cry, dear ducky darling Aunt Maria,' said Molly—'oh, don't! What is the matter?'
'Nothing you would understand.' said Aunt Maria gruffly; 'run away and play, there's a good child.'
'But I don't want to play while you're crying. I'm sure I could understand, dear little auntie.'
Molly embraced the tall, gaunt figure of the aunt.
'Dear little auntie, tell Molly.'
She used just the tone she was used to use to her baby brother.
'It's—it's business,' said Aunt Maria, sniffing.
'I know business is dreadfully bad—father says so,' said Molly. 'Don't send me away, auntie; I'll be as quiet as a mouse. I'll just sit and cuddle you till you feel better.'
She got her arms round the aunt's waist, and snuggled her head against a thin arm. Aunt
