“Well, that doesn’t matter,” Brevet replied, philosophically, “we shall see them all tomorrow when we come down to see you off; but what we all care the most about is your going, Miss Courage. Grandnana a cries every time she thinks of it, and Uncle Harry says it will be just like a funeral all the time for him until he is able to go back to the office, and I’m just as miserable as I can be.”
“Well, it’s very kind of you all,” sighed Courage. “It seems to me there never were two such dear places as Homespun and Ellis-mere, and you cannot imagine how I hate to leave them.”
“What will you all do anyway when you get back to New York?” Brevet asked, a little sullenly, as though he felt in his heart that really they were to blame for going.
“Well, we are not going because we want to, Brevet,” Courage answered almost sharply, for she was herself just down-spirited enough to be a trifle touchy and childish. “There is no reason why Mary Duff and Sylvia and I should stay since the Bennetts will not be here to be cared for.”
“But what is the reason for your going home, Miss Courage?” asked Brevet, determined to have the whole situation explained.
“Well, Mary Duff is needed at the hospital, where she has charge, you know, of a whole ward full of little babies; and, as for Sylvia and me, our home is there you know—we belong there—and I shall try very hard to find something to fill up all my time, for that is the only way for me to manage now that I no longer have Miss Julia.”
“But do people always belong to just one place?”
“No, not always,” Courage was forced to admit.
“Well, you and Brevet seem to be having things all your own way,” said Harry, really speaking for the first time since he had entered.
“Yes; I was thinking it would be more polite if you should join in the conversation,” Courage answered, colouring a little, for she had felt annoyed at Harry’s apparently moody silence.