“Susanna will look after them. I'll leave money for their provender. And I will pay Susanna for taking care of them. She has fallen in love with the cat; she'll be only too glad to adopt it.”
“And I haven't got a single thing fit to wear.”
“Neither have I. We will buy complete fit-outs in Boston or New York.”
“But—”
There were innumerable “buts.” I answered them as best I could. Also I reiterated my determination not to go unless she did. I told of Campbell's advice and laid strong emphasis on the fact that he had said travel was my only hope. Unless she wished me to die of despair she must agree to travel with me.
“And you have said over and over again that your one desire was to go abroad,” I added, as a final clincher.
“I know it. I know I have. But—but now when it comes to really goin' I'm not so sure. Uncle Bedny Small was always declarin' in prayer-meetin' that he wanted to die so as to get to Heaven, but when he was taken down with influenza he made his folks call both doctors here in town and one from Harniss. I don't know whether I want to go or not, Hosy. I—I'm frightened, I guess.”
Jim's answer to my telegram arrived the very next day.
“Have engaged two staterooms for ship sailing Wednesday the tenth,” it read. “Hearty congratulations on your good sense. Who is your companion? Write particulars.”
The telegram quashed the last of Hephzy's objections. The fares had been paid and she was certain they must be “dreadful expensive.” All that money could not be wasted, so she accepted the inevitable and began preparations.