"Mamma, what do I want? I wanted to say good-bye to you." She sat down beside her mother and took her hand.
Mrs. Baumhagen nodded to her. "Yes, we sha'nt see each other for some time."
"Mamma, are you still angry with me?" asked the girl, hesitatingly, her eyes filling with tears.
"Forgive me, now," she entreated. "I have been vehement and perverse sometimes, but--"
"Oh, no matter--don't bring it up now," said her mother. "I only hope most heartily that you may be happy, and may never repent your obstinacy and perversity."
"Never!" cried Gertrude with perfect conviction.
Mrs. Baumhagen continued to button her gloves. The room was stifling with the heavy odors of lavender water and patchouly, and her heavy silk rustled as she exerted herself to button the somewhat refractory gloves. She made no reply.
"May I ask one more favor, mamma?"
"Certainly."
The girl involuntarily folded her hands in her lap.