Her mother went placidly on with her sewing.
“He wants me to tell you that he wishes to come and see you very soon, mama,” said Harriett at last, with a little gasp.
“Wants to see me, dear?” in mild surprise.
“Yes.”
“But what about?”
“About—about me—he wants to tell you something.”
“He seems to have told you already,” said Mrs. Walsh.
The girl dropped on her knees before her mother, burying her face in her lap. There was a little silence between them, and then Mrs. Walsh said.
“We must tell Virginia. I hope, dear, that she will approve.”
Harriett glanced up quickly at this. She was very white of face.