"Well," said Aunt Hester, briskly, "I am going now. I----" "Going!" cried Dolly, desolately. "I am going," repeated Aunt Hester, firmly. "There is nothing I can do here. And there're Earl's socks to be looked after (he is just entering Cambridge, you know), and Ethel's frocks (she's at the High School), and then there is your uncle--suppose he gets it into _his_ head to sprout feathers! No, no--I'm going home. _I'm_ willing to be what Nature said I had to be. _I_ don't take any chances with those new-fangled grand-stunts. Besides, if you are just going to do nothing, why, then, you can do that without me." And setting her bonnet upon her nice gray hair, Aunt Hester picked up her grip and marched out into the hall. "Auntie! Auntie!" cried Dolly, running after her. Aunt Hester stopped at the opened door and turned. She confronted Dolly, and the will-o'-the-wisp was dancing in the profundities of her deep-set eyes. A tenderness came into them; she dropped her grip, seized Dolly, and drew her close. "Dear little Dolly," she whispered; "you'll do it, don't you fear. You'll bring back your Charles-Norton, you soft little woman, you; you'll get him! And now, kiss me good-by. Write to me--when you decide." The door closed, and leaning against it, Dolly wept a long time. Then she went within and in a more comfortable position, wept more. She wept for a whole week. And then, suddenly, one afternoon, she stood up in the center of the room and began stamping her foot. "I won't," she said, with each stamp of the little foot. "I won't, I won't, I won't!" And saying "I won't," she did. She sat down at the table and on her pale blue letter paper, wrote: "DEAR AUNTIE:--Yes, you were right, I guess. I _am_ a cling-to. I want him. I don't care: he's mine and I _won't_ give him up. Tell me how to do it, Auntie, oh, tell me how! Quick, Auntie, quick!" The answer was not long in coming. "Dearest Little Dolly," wrote Aunt Hester; "of course, I knew you would, and I am glad. As to telling you how--well, that is very simple. Just go to him, Dolly. Go to him (not too soon; wait a while) and just stick around. Your instincts will tell you the rest. Rely on your instincts, Dolly," went on this incorrigible Darwinian. "They are better than your reason, for they are the reason of your mother and grandmother, and all the line of mothers that came before you. _They_ had to be right, Dolly, or they wouldn't have been, and then _you_ wouldn't be. Go to him, and stick around, and do as you feel like doing. In all probability you'll be nice, and humble, and snuggledy, and warm. And then, make--your arrangements. _He_ can't help himself. Nature is on your side. His dice are loaded. Cling, Dolly, cling." Dolly blushed. "Auntie is horrid," she said. And then, after a while, "But right," she said. CHAPTER IX