“‘This is a selfish letter—all about me—but I knew you’d want to know about your namesake. Write me right away. We’ll be watching every mail.
“‘Dorothy.’”
They looked at one another with shining eyes as Priscilla folded the letter. Mary was the first to speak.
“Isn’t it the loveliest thing in all the world for Dorothy to do?” she said.
“Wonderful!” cried the two who possessed a namesake.
“I think we ought to make Virginia Winthrop Richards a present,” proposed Priscilla. “I never felt so important in all my life, did you, Virginia?”
“Never!” said Virginia. “Why so quiet, Vivian?”
“I was thinking about Imogene,” said Vivian. 159 “I’m wondering why I don’t care much either. It’s strange when I cared so much for her—only four months ago.”
In their excitement over Dorothy’s child, the others had for the moment forgotten Imogene.
“I guess it’s because we went as far as the crossroads together,” explained Virginia, “and then chose different paths. I feel the same way Dorothy does. I’m sorry for Imogene, but I don’t feel any great loss myself.”