Like a child Ada agreed. Before they left the rooming house that had been her home for so many years she closed her eyes and put her wrinkled hand into Ellie's. "Is it far?" she asked, trustingly.
"Not far, Mother. Don't look until I say so."
"I promise," laughed Ada.
A short walk and around a corner. Ada kept her promise, even when going into another house and up the stairs.
Then Ellie said: "Open your eyes, Mother."
Ada looked and she was in the middle of a well lighted room. A thick carpet was on the floor, bright paper on the wall, a luxurious bed room suite, a roomy easy chair and beside it a radio.
"This is your room," Ellie said, softly.
Ada stared, speechless. Then Ted and Carl and Alfred crowded into the room.
Ada's gaze went from one familiar face to the other before she realized that she was in the front room of their house.
Once more flared the old independence. "B-but—all this. You can't afford all this," she protested.