“No, indeed,” said Effie, cheerfully, “except for your sake.”
“But I am sure they will miss you sadly.”
“Yes, I dare say they will; but they don’t really need me. Sarah is at home, and Katie and Nellie are quite to be trusted even should she be called away. I am not in the least troubled about them. Still, I hope we shall soon get home, for your sake.”
“But without your wages, how can they manage? I am afraid—”
“I am not afraid,” said Effie. “I left all that in safe hands before I came here. Our garden did wonderfully well last year; and besides, we managed to lay by something—and God is good. I am not afraid.”
“And they have all grown very much, you say. And little Will! Oh, how I should like to have seen them all! They will soon forget me, Effie.”
Effie started. It was the first time she had ever said anything that seemed to imply a doubt of her recovery. Even now she was not quite sure that she meant that, and she hastened to say:
“Oh, there is no fear of their forgetting you. You cannot think how delighted they all were when your letters came.”
“They could not give you half the pleasure that yours gave me.”
“Oh, yes, they did. We always liked to hear all about what you were doing, and about the children and Miss Gertrude. Why, I felt quite as though I had known Miss Gertrude for a long time when I first met her here the other day. I almost think I should have known her if I had met her anywhere. She looks older and more mature than I should have supposed from your letters, and then I used to fancy that she might be at times a little overbearing and exacting.”