"There's that poor child been ill all this time and you've never even seen her. Take her along some flowers and let her see that you are not grieving too much for Miss Annie. She won't get better if she worries about you."
Then to Elma.
"Cheer up Miss Grace when she comes. You have your life before you, and she has had to put all hers behind her. Don't let her be down if you can help it."
In this wise he pitted the two against one another, so that they met with great fortitude.
"Why, my dear, how pretty your hair is," Miss Grace had burst out.
Elma was lying on a couch near the window by this time. She looked infinitely fragile.
"Oh, Miss Grace, it is a wig," she replied.
Miss Grace laughed in a jerky hysterical sort of manner.
"Then I wish I wore a wig," said she.
Elma smiled.