"You must excuse me for being so foolish, dear," she said, "but that was my little Barbara's favorite song; she was always asking Beverly to sing it. I don't think I have heard it since—since she went away."
There were tears of sympathy in Marjorie's eyes, and although she said nothing, the look she gave her friend touched Mrs. Randolph, and perhaps comforted her more than any words would have done.
"Oh, Mother Dear, I'm so Sorry!"—Page 243.
Beverly did not sing again, but quietly closed the piano, and for the rest of the afternoon his merry boyish face was unusually grave.
"You have given me a great deal of pleasure," Mrs. Randolph said, when Marjorie at last rose to go. "I hope you will come again to-morrow. It is very tiresome to have to stay in the house all day, especially when one hasn't the solace of reading."
Marjorie said she would surely come again, and then she hurried back to their own apartment, where she found her aunt and cousin, who had come in some time before.
Mrs. Carleton had read Marjorie's note, and had no objection to the girl's spending as much time with the invalid as she liked.
"Was Beverly at home?" Elsie inquired, anxiously, following her cousin to her room.
"He was there some of the time," said Marjorie; "he had lessons to do at first, but he came in for tea. Mrs. Randolph asked him to sing—he has a beautiful voice."