She had not far to go.

Coming down the garden-path she met grandmother, anxiously looking for news of Molly.
"She's in old Marie's kitchen," said Sylvia, breathlessly, "and she's fallen fast asleep.

She'd been crying so, old Marie said.

And she had been writing this note for you, grandmother, and doing up this parcel." Without speaking, grandmother broke the very splotchy-looking red seal and read the note.
"My dear, dear grandmother," it began, "Please do forgive me.

I send you all my brooches.