“I’ll ask Mother—at least, if you’ll let me tell her all about what has happened. It won’t get around Riverside—Mother is used to keeping secrets, you know, for my father is a detective. And if she consents, I’ll go and stay with Elsie till you come home.”
Tears of gratitude stood in the sick woman’s eyes; the promise evidently meant a great deal to her.
“Yes, tell your mother,” she said. “And Jane’s mother. But nobody else.”
Mary Louise stood up.
“I must go now, Miss Grant. Your nurse has been beckoning to me for the last two minutes. You have to rest.... But I’ll come in to see you on Sunday.”
She walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her and thinking how sad it must be to face an operation all alone, with no one’s loving kiss on your lips, no one’s hopes and prayers to sustain you. But, sorry as Mary Louise was for Miss Grant, she could not show her any affection. She couldn’t forget or forgive her cruelty to Elsie.
Her mother was waiting for her on the porch when she arrived at her house.
“You must be starved, Mary Louise!” she exclaimed. “I have your lunch all ready for you.”
“Thanks heaps, Mother—I am hungry. But so much has happened. Did Jane tell you about Miss Grant?”
“Yes. But I can’t see why you had to go to the hospital with her when she has all those relatives to look after her.”