Mollie, whose broad back was bent over her table, knew how the words hurt Gusta, and, without turning, she said:
"You go tell her Gusta's here, Nora; she'll want to see her."
"Oh, sure," said Nora, yielding to a superior. "I'll tell her."
Almost before Nora could return, Elizabeth stood in the swinging door, beaming her surprise and pleasure. And Gusta burst into tears.
"Why Gusta," exclaimed Elizabeth, "come right in here!"
She held the door, and Gusta, with a glance at Nora, went in. Seated by the window in the old familiar dining-room, with Elizabeth before her, Gusta glanced about, the pain came back, and the tears rolled down her cheeks.
"You mustn't cry, Gusta," said Elizabeth.
Gusta sat twisting her fingers together, in and out, while the tears fell. She could not speak for a moment, and then she looked up and tried to smile.
"You mustn't cry," Elizabeth repeated. "You aren't half so pretty when you cry."
Gusta's wet lashes were winking rapidly, and she took out her handkerchief and wiped her face and her eyes, and Elizabeth looked at her intently.