When Effie had finished the many small duties which fell to her share in the household economy, she went up to her bedroom and hastily changed her everyday dress for her best one. She did not take long about this task. Her small face looked very pale and thin under the heavy crêpe on her hat. Taking up her gloves she ran down to the parlor where her mother was sitting. Mrs. Staunton was busily mending some stockings for George. A pile of his clothes lay on the table by her side.
"I thought we might send these to London next week," she said, looking up as her daughter entered the room. "George will want a really warm greatcoat for the winter, and this one of your father's—why, Effie, my dear——" She stopped abruptly, and gazed up at Effie's best hat. "Where are you going, my love?" she said. "I thought you could help me this morning."
"I am going out, mother, for a little."
"But where to? Why have you your best things on?"
"I am going to the Harveys'."
"To the Harveys'—to The Grange?"
Mrs. Staunton shuddered slightly; she turned her head aside. "Why are you going there?" she asked, after a pause.
"I want to see them—I won't be long away. Please, mother, don't tire yourself over all that mending now."
"It interests me, my dear; I find it impossible to sit with my hands before me. I am stronger than I used to be. I have got to live for George; and George is young, he is entering life, he must not be saddled with an old, ailing mother. I must get strong, I must get back my youth for his sake. Don't be long away, Effie, dear. I wonder you like to go to the Harveys' under the circumstances, but you know best. Children are very independent nowadays," concluded Mrs. Staunton, with a sigh.
Effie went up to her mother and kissed her, then she softly left the room.