“She and I want you to be happy too, and you will when you get well, my precious. You will laugh and sing as you used to.”
“Mamma, I see through you,” said Elsie. “I bet Harvey is here now. He brought these roses himself. He coaxed you to coax me to see him. All right. Shake up my pillows. Get Patey’s pink boudoir cap and put your pink shawl around me and bring him in.”
Her pallor was more marked by the bright cap and shawl and the flame in her cheeks seemed scarlet.
“Hello, Harvey,” she greeted him almost in her old bright voice. “Thank you for the roses. They’re—”
A violent coughing made it impossible for Elsie to finish speaking.
He came and stood beside her and took her hot little outstretched hand.
“You’re so pretty and I’m so glad you let me come in,” he said gently.
“Oh, Harvey, I’m the one that’s glad,” said Elsie, trying to speak brightly. She laid back on the pillow. The effort to talk exhausted her.
Harvey knelt down beside the bed so that his face was almost on a level with hers.
“I don’t want you to get tired, dear,” he said. “I just want you to rest and get well. Rest now!” He put his hand tenderly on her hot forehead.