Old Miss Fogg stared at the picture through dim eyes. “My little baby child—all I got in the world,” she muttered at length and broke into fresh tears. “She’s all the kin I got in the world, but she’s married an’ gone, and I ain’t seen her for ten years,” she wept. “Oh, my baby, my honey! Why don’t you come see your old Tannie no more? O Sweetness, I want to see you so bad!”
“You haven’t seen her for ten years!” Julie exclaimed. Instantly she saw the thin old shoulders stiffen, and felt an unseen veil drawn. Miss Fogg looked up in quick defiance, a crafty challenge in her eyes.
“Who said she ain’t been to see me for ten years?” she demanded.
“Why you said—” Julie faltered.
“I ain’t said nothing!” the other stormed. “Folks tells lies. I don’t know what’s got into people. They ain’t got no idea about the truth no more. What business they got telling tales about my little honey, saying she ain’t coming to see me no more? They don’t know,” she spoke mysteriously, “but I’m expecting her most any day now. She’ll come to me soon, my baby’ll come soon to her old Tannie.” Her tone changed, she looked up at Julie, and spoke with a pathetic dignity, “I’m looking for a visit from my little niece,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was to come to-day.”
She made the statement defiantly, yet there lurked in her eyes an anguish of entreaty that implored Julie to confirm her.
“Why, yes, indeed!” Julie answered eagerly. “Why, yes, she’s liable to come almost any day now.”
“But she don’t come! She don’t come! Oh, my baby! My honey! I want to see you so bad!” Once more the old woman began to rock herself to and fro hopelessly.
“But she will come! She’ll come soon now,” Julie promised.
Old Miss Fogg gazed up into her face, her mouth hanging open and tremulous with eagerness, as she gathered encouragement from Julie’s assurance. Then her eyes wandered away over the room.