“Am I crying?” Susy rose from her knees and sat down on the counterpane. “Yes, it is me. And I had to disturb you.”
“Oh, Susy, darling, what is it?” Junie’s arms were about her in a flash, and Susy grasped them in burning fingers.
“Junie, listen! I’ve got to go away at once—to leave you all for the whole day. I may not be back till late this evening; late to-night; I can’t tell. I promised your mother I’d never leave you; but I’ve got to—I’ve got to.”
Junie considered her agitated face with fully awakened eyes. “Oh, I won’t tell, you know, you old brick,” she said with simplicity.
Susy hugged her. “Junie, Junie, you darling! But that wasn’t what I meant. Of course you may tell—you must tell. I shall write to your mother myself. But what worries me is the idea of having to go away—away from Paris—for the whole day, with Geordie still coughing a little, and no one but that silly Angele to stay with him while you’re out—and no one but you to take yourself and the others to school. But Junie, Junie, I’ve got to do it!” she sobbed out, clutching the child tighter.
Junie Fulmer, with her strangely mature perception of the case, and seemingly of every case that fate might call on her to deal with, sat for a moment motionless in Susy’s hold. Then she freed her wrists with an adroit twist, and leaning back against the pillows said judiciously: “You’ll never in the world bring up a family of your own if you take on like this over other people’s children.”
Through all her turmoil of spirit the observation drew a laugh from Susy. “Oh, a family of my own—I don’t deserve one, the way I’m behaving to your—”
Junie still considered her. “My dear, a change will do you good: you need it,” she pronounced.
Susy rose with a laughing sigh. “I’m not at all sure it will! But I’ve got to have it, all the same. Only I do feel anxious—and I can’t even leave you my address!”
Junie still seemed to examine the case.