"I told him. And that you won't come with us because you think you'll be a burden on Ted. As if—"
"Oh! Squealing to your brother who did not write to us for half a life time. The trouble and worry he caused me when he ran away! Having the neighbors talk about us more than before! I'm ashamed of you, Ellie! Where's your spunk?"
Ada remembered how patient Ellie was that day. How hard she tried to explain. How she said: "Please! Howard wanted to make good before he let us hear from him. He has been working for an archeologist of late years. He travels all over the world with expeditions."
"Why didn't he say all this before?"
"He did. But I was afraid to tell you. You're so stubborn, Mother. Now you are getting old and I think you should—"
Even now Ada recalled the hot flush of anger that crept over her. "You take that letter out of here," she said.
"B-but—"
"If you ever mention his name again I'll forbid you to come here. And don't you forget it."
"I won't forget it." Ellie had gone out, her pointed chin as firmly set as her mother's.
That was the last mention of Howard and in Ada's senile years even the memory of him was blurred.