“You must come to see us often, Teddy,” smiled Mrs. Harding.
“Yes’m, I will. I’d like to come to see you. I think my mother would like to come, too.”
“I should be pleased to meet her,” was Mrs. Harding’s courteous response, but she decided there was little possibility of Mrs. Burke coming to visit any person in her humble circumstances. From what Teddy had told her of his home and his mother, she concluded that the Burkes were in far better circumstances than were she and Harry.
“Your friend Teddy is a dear, little fellow, Harry,” she remarked after Teddy had gone. “I’m so glad his mother has waked up to it.” Harry had repeated to her the story of Teddy’s home progress. “I had hard work not to smile when he said he thought his mother would like to come here. Very likely she wouldn’t look at us.”
“If Teddy’s mother ever comes here once, she’ll come again. She couldn’t stay away, Mothery. She’d just have to.” Harry sidled over to where his mother sat sewing and slid a loving, loyal arm about her neck.
Mrs. Harding dropped her work and gathered her boy into her arms. “I don’t mind hard work and poverty as long as I have you, little son,” she said tenderly.
“But we are not going to be poor always, Mothery. I’m going to keep earning more money all the while. By the time I’m twenty-one, you won’t have to do a single thing but keep house for me. I’m going to be a business man by that time.”
Mrs. Harding stroked her son’s curly head. “Perhaps you will be. Who knows? I’m so pleased that you are getting along so well in the store. No one could help liking you, Harry, you are such a good, thoughtful boy.”