“Poor Harvey,” she said. “Isn’t he a dear, mamma?”
“He always thought the world and all of you,” Mrs. Welcome sighed.
“I always liked him, but I never did love him, you know. I just let him come to see me because he wanted to, and all the girls had company.”
“You might have loved him dearie if—if—”
“If I hadn’t gone away, you mean, but I did go away.” Elsie coughed violently.
“There, there, sweet, don’t.” Her mother helped her to sit up and held her in her arms.
“Harvey comes every day to ask how you are,” said Mrs. Welcome when she was better. “He wants to see you when you feel able.”
Elsie remained silent.
Out in the parlor they could hear Patience moving about, putting things in order, singing as she worked one of the songs she and Elsie used to sing when they were little girls.
“Young Mrs. Boland is some singer,” said Elsie with a flash of her old fun. “Isn’t it nice for our Patey to be so happy?”