“Dunlop!  Dunlop did that!”

“He and his small brother weep a little weep every time your name is mentioned.”

“Oh, Pat!  Why, I never thought they’d care so much,” said Anne.  “I miss them.  But I was afraid to write to them.  I didn’t want to go back there.  Can they make me go back, if I write and tell them where I am?”

“No, indeed,” answered Miss Drayton.

“Bet your life they can’t,” said Pat.  “You’re coming to live with us.  Isn’t she, Aunt Sarah?”

“I’m so glad!  I’m so glad!” Anne was radiant.  “I love Cousin Dorcas,” she hastened to explain.  “She’s just as kind to me as can be and she’s awful good.  But—­she’s one of the good people you don’t want to live with.  She has nerves, you know, and so many troubles.  And her arms aren’t cuddly.  Not like yours, Miss Drayton.  I think she likes me—­a cousin-like, you know,—­but I’m sure she’ll be glad not to have me live with her.  She hasn’t much money and I cost so much.  Shoes are the worst.  I wear them out so fast.”

“You can wear out all you want to now,—­shoes and everything.  And give Cousin Dorcas some, too,” said Pat.

While they were chattering away, a measured step was heard in the hall.  “There’s father,” said Pat.  “Oh, dad, we’ve found Anne,” he called.  “Here she is.”

Mr. Patterson hurried into the room.  Anne rose timidly to shake hands, and was caught in a hearty embrace.  “Welcome, little one!  Welcome home,” said Mr. Patterson.

“Hooray! hooray for the star-spangled banner!” Pat shouted so loud that the cook and both the maid-servants came running to see what was the matter.  Whereupon Mr. Patterson told them that they were to have the Christmas turkey that day and the best dinner they could prepare on such short notice, to celebrate Miss Anne’s coming home.

“We want your cousin to join us,” said Miss Drayton.  “Has she a telephone?”

“We use Miss Margery’s,” replied Anne.  “Please, do you mind—­would you ask Miss Margery, too?”

“Of course, dear.  We shall be happy to have her.  Before dinner let’s write some little letters—­really we ought—­to let your other friends know that we’ve found you.”

“Bully Mrs. Collins,” said Pat.

“And poor Miss Farlow,” added Miss Drayton.

“Don’t forget our friend ’Lop,” suggested Mr. Patterson.

“And—­it’s far away and long ago—­” said Anne, “but I want Mademoiselle Duroc to know and to tell the girls, if any of the old ones are there, that you know about the jewels and it’s all right.”

CHAPTER XXIX

“Time you youngsters were doing your Christmas shopping,” said Mr. Patterson the next morning, laying a generous banknote by Pat’s plate and two crisp notes by Anne’s.  “She has to have a double portion,” he explained, “because she’s a girl—­and little—­and has to make up lost time.”

“Yep, dad,” said Pat, nodding agreement to each of these reasons and adding another, “and she has such gangs of people to send things to.  You’ll have to go to the ten-cent shop, Nancy Anne, or borrow from my bank.  Wherever you’ve been, you’ve picked up friends, like—­like a little woolly lambie gathers burs.”