"No, but listen, godpapa: here is something I never told a soul. Promise you won't tell?"
"I promise."
"Not even Aunt Allie?"
"Not even Aunt Allie."
"Well, you remember that Miss Mathews, who visited you last spring, and how I found the watch she lost?"
"Perfectly."
"We all looked everywhere for it, and she felt so badly about it because it belonged to her mother. I was very sorry for her. While I was looking I came out here to Dolman's House. And I heard him just as plainly as when I was a child. He said: 'She dropped it when she was picking flowers'; and I found out that she had been picking flowers away up the cañon near the falls; and I went up there and found it almost first crack. How do you 'splain that?"
She was staring up at him, her face showing pale through the dusk, her eyes wide with excitement.
"I declare you do believe in Dolman!" accused the Colonel, in a light tone designed to relieve the tension, "and I'm almost inclined to myself. I would if he would tell me where I left my second-best hat."
At this moment Brainerd's voice was heard hailing them. They answered.
"Oh, there you are," he observed, slouching forward with Mrs. Peyton. "Wonder you wouldn't hide. Come, Daffy, it's very late."
Daphne made her required little speeches of thanks.
"I am going to make some marmalade to-morrow afternoon," Mrs. Peyton told her. "Better come over and make some, too. I'll show you my new recipe."
"I will, Aunt Allie. Good-night," replied Daphne. She moved away sedately for ten yards, then came flying back all swirl and legs, seized the Colonel and Mrs. Peyton, hugged and kissed them tempestuously, and was off again.
"She's a dear child," said Mrs. Peyton, rearranging her somewhat rumpled plumage. "I wish she had more young folks to play with."
