Shirley was almost sorry to tell Sidney that she had received word, but Sidney herself asked her if she had received it. “I saw Madge going up with a foreign looking letter in her hand. I wondered if you could have received word from your mother, Shirley,” said Sidney, meeting Shirley after dinner.
“Yes, Sidney, and I want you to read it. Let’s go up right now. Nobody is there.”
The two girls ran up the stairs together. Sidney sat down in the chair Shirley offered, afraid to ask Shirley what her mother had said. She looked searchingly at Shirley, however, saying, “I think that it is good news, from the way you look.”
“Yes, Sidney,—but read the whole letter, please. It is especially interesting. I’m crazy to see the things that they are bringing home. At Christmas, you know, they were in the wilds and couldn’t even send me a present. She’s bringing me an Egyptian scarab and all sorts of things from crazy places, besides some of the regular treasures that she will pick up this summer in Europe. They haven’t so much money, though, because the trip has taken so much. My father will make something, though, by writing everything up.”
Sidney was holding the letter and listening to Shirley. “And you think that all that sort of thing is better, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Shirley simply replied.
“I begin to understand about you, Shirley.”
That was all Sidney said until after she read the letter, looking up to smile at Shirley, however, when she came to the important statement. Then she read on again, soberly, to the end, and handed the letter back to Shirley. “That is a fine letter. How beautifully she writes of what they have seen. I could wish that my real mother, if she is anywhere, could be as interesting as that. I’m so afraid, Shirley that—oh, well, I’ve no business to harrow you all up with my woes!”
“You must remember that a very beautiful lady selected you and made you her own,” Shirley suggested.
“Yes, and I have so much that they have given me. I guess that I am a pretty ‘small potato,’ Shirley!”