"No one will be there but you and I and the children. We'll have a cosy day that will take you out of yourself," assured Sister Maddon.
—
As Sister Maddon left the house, Mrs. Hansom entered.
"My dear Venna," she said, putting her arms around her niece affectionately, "you look pale as death. I insist on your packing up some things and coming home with me for a month."
"No, no! Auntie dear, I couldn't stand it, really. So many people all the time. If it were only you, dear, but"—
"Don't you know everyone understands and sympathizes with you?"
"Of course—that's just it. They sympathize and condole, until I can't stand it. Don't think I'm ungrateful, but just leave me alone for a little while. Just you come to see me, dear, and I'll come around finely."
"Who was that lady who just went out?"
Venna hesitated. She had told her aunt nothing of her Mormon faith. She hardly felt equal to her disapproval, but she couldn't deceive. It was plainly her duty to declare herself.
"Auntie dear," she said quietly, "that lady is a friend of a Mormon missionary who visited us in the country. He is a wonderful young man, and quite converted Anna, her husband and myself."