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 came, a hoarse, rasping voice with which he was not familiar.

“She went on that hiking trip up in the northern part of the state. She fell over a bluff and hurt herself terribly. Nobody knew how bad it was. They were where they couldn’t get anything. It must have been appendicitis or peritonitis. Her body was all bandaged. Anyway, Lolly is beside her father out in Pinehurst Cemetery.”

“Oh!” cried Jamie. “Oh!”

He dropped back on his heels and possessed himself of both Margaret Cameron’s hands and sat staring at her.

“I had a ’phone call,” she said presently, “from my niece, Molly, to come to her place in town quick, that she was worried about Lolly. She just said that to make it easier for me to get there. They must have sent her word from the start that Lolly was gone. Molly had written her a letter and they got the address off it and sent Lolly to her. They were always, not like sisters, more than sisters. If they had been sisters, they’d not have gotten along half so well as they did. I’ve been kind of sore at Molly for a good while. I thought she had a good deal to do with Lolly going away, but maybe she didn’t. Maybe I was so hurt at her going that I just imagined it. You know, a mother has got a lot of time to think and her children are so bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh that to save her she can’t help worrying over them. But I needn’t worry over Lolly any more. There’s nothing more I am ever going to do for her.”

She sat still in dry-eyed resignation.