Little Ivy
MISS STOREY'S cousin, Mr. Frederick Croft, read her letter silently, his young wife leaning against his shoulder and reading it also. They were alone together.
"Kind creature!" he said at length. "I didn't really expect it of her."
"I did, Fred. She is so dear—so really good."
"Anne would be ready enough. Anne loves children. But Millicent—"
"She would do anything she felt to be right."
"Yes; that's it. She writes sweetly; but it's because she thinks she ought. Not because she wants Ivy. And the question is—Were we right to ask it of her?"
"I don't see that there was anything else to be done."
"What I mean is—Am I right to let you come with me? That is the real question."
"I knew you meant that. But you can't help it, dear, because I am coming." Mary Croft spoke firmly.