Then she wrote to Edna:
My dear little girl:
It is always a pleasure to receive one of your cheerful letters. I can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of Father, Bertie, and Cousin Lance. I am very glad you like Bertie’s Giulia; she is a charming little creature, and very devoted to him. Your description of their ball was amusing, and, I thought, rather touching. Bertie had told me of Mr. Santi’s predilection for wizards; I think I should enjoy them myself. Your dress must have been lovely. I am sorry your father thought it too short! Personally I think that style suits you; you don’t look any older than when you were a little girl going to dancing school.
Write to me often, my dear little Edna. And don’t expect any news from me, because there is none. I am very much better; you are not to worry. As soon as this most unfortunate affair is settled, I shall be at home again.
Very lovingly and gratefully,
Your Mother.
P. S. Be sure to send the furs to cold storage this week!
She looked again at the little pile of letters she had had from Edna, gay, pleasant, commonplace. And yet alarming. There was not a single mention of Malloy. Edna was not one to wear her heart on her sleeve; she had no ability and no desire for expressing her emotions. Her mother blessed her for her seemly reticence; how easy it was to deal with people who didn’t talk, who took so much for granted! She was quite certain that the poor little thing was very unhappy, but she was also certain that she was not desperate. She had no doubt noticed the change in her handsome lover, but she wished no consoling for it; she would console herself, she would endure with dignity and common sense.
And now for Alfred.
She hesitated for a long time, then began to write, in her careful and delicate hand:
My dear Alfred: