"I like you, Bessie," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You see things. That's because you live in this cave and don't get dazzled by what doesn't matter."
"It's not such a bad kitchen," said Bessie practically. "At least, I'm used to it."
December came, and one evening, when she returned from work, Theresa found a letter waiting for her father. It was from Clara, and Theresa put it on her father's plate, and walked with dignity from the room; nor did she enter it again until she was called to supper.
After that meal she waited for the word which, sooner or later, she would have to hear.
"James is better."
"Oh!"
"Clara wishes me to go there for the New Year."
"That would be nice for you."
"If I can get leave. I hope it is not an extravagance."
"Your only one."