But the lists completed, dinner over, alone with her new guardian, an
overwhelming loneliness swept her. Cornelius Allendyce, turning from a
protracted study of the blazing fire, was startled to find the girl's
head pillowed in her arm, her shoulders shaking with smothered sobs.
"My dear! My dear!" he exclaimed, very much as Miss Effie would have
done.
"I--I can't help it. I tried--"
Poor Robin looked so very small in the big chair that remorse seized
Cornelius Allendyce. How could he have taken this little girl from her
corner, shabby as it was?
It was not too late--
"Miss Gordon," he began a little uneasily, wondering what guardians did
when their wards were hysterical. "My dear, don't cry, I beg of you.
Come, it is not too late to go back. We will explain--"
Robin lifted her head. "I--I don't want to go back. But I was thinking
of Jimmie. He must be awfully lonesome--now. You see you don't know
Jimmie. He depends on me to remind him of things like his hot milk. And
just at first, it will be hard. But, no, no, I don't want to go back."
"Then I would suggest that you go to bed. You are doubtless very tired
from the excitement of everything.
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