“It won't be a burden,” said the girl tenderly. “I shall seem to be doing it for your mother, but I know I shall be doing it for you. I do everything for you. Do you think it's right?”
“Oh; it must be,” said Dan, laughing. “It's so pleasant.”
“Oh,” said the girl gloomily; “that's what makes me doubt it.”
XLII.
Eunice Mavering acknowledged Alice's first letter. She said that her mother read it aloud to them all, and had been delighted with the good account she gave of Dan, and fascinated with all the story of their daily doings and sayings. She wished Eunice to tell Alice how fully she appreciated her thoughtfulness of a sick old woman, and that she was going to write herself and thank her. But Eunice added that Alice must not be surprised if her mother was not very prompt in this, and she sent messages from all the family, affectionate for Alice, and polite for her father and mother.
Alice showed Dan the letter, and he seemed to find nothing noticeable in it. “She says your mother will write later,” Alice suggested.
“Yes. You ought to feel very much complimented by that. Mother's autographs are pretty uncommon,” he said, smiling.
“Why, doesn't she write? Can't she? Does it tire her?” asked Alice.
“Oh yes, she can write, but she hates to. She gets Eunice or Minnie to write usually.”