“Is she ill?”
“Well, not exactly—she—she—is kind of depressed.”
“Depressed! Depressed over what?”
“Oh, Dr. Wright, I hate to be telling you these things! It looks as though I did not love my mother to be talking about her, but indeed I do. Douglas and I are so miserable about it, but we—we—somehow we feel that we are a great deal older than mumsy. We know it is hard on her—all of this——”
“All of what?”
“This living such a rough life—and having to give up society and our pretty house and everything.”
“Of course it is hard, but then aren’t all of you giving up things, too?”
“But we don’t mind—at least we don’t mind much. It is harder on Helen and mother because—because they—they are kind of different. And they don’t understand money.”
“And do you understand it?” laughed the young doctor.