“For how long is this, Edith, and how are you
going to say good-bye to me?”
She raised tired, pain-filled eyes to his.
“I don’t know for how long it is,”
she said. “It seems now as if it had been
a slow eternity. I wish to my soul that God would
be merciful to me and make something ‘snap’
in my heart, as there did in Phil’s, that would
give me rest. I don’t know for how long,
but I’m perfectly shameless with you, Hart.
If peace ever comes and I want you, I won’t
wait for you to find it out yourself, I’ll cable,
Marconigraph, anything. As for how I say good-bye;
any way you please, I don’t care in the least
what happens to me.”
Henderson studied her intently.
“In that case, we will shake hands,” he
said. “Good-bye, Edith. Don’t
forget that every hour I am thinking of you and hoping
all good things will come to you soon.”
WHEREIN PHILIP FINDS ELNORA, AND EDITH CARR OFFERS A YELLOW EMPEROR
“Oh, I need my own violin,” cried Elnora.
“This one may be a thousand times more expensive,
and much older than mine; but it wasn’t inspired
and taught to sing by a man who knew how. It doesn’t
know ‘beans,’ as mother would say, about
the Limberlost.”
The guests in the O’More music-room laughed
appreciatively.
“Why don’t you write your mother to come
for a visit and bring yours?” suggested Freckles.
“I did that three days ago,” acknowledged
Elnora. “I am half expecting her on the
noon boat. That is one reason why this violin
grows worse every minute. There is nothing at
all the matter with me.”
“Splendid!” cried the Angel. “I’ve
begged and begged her to do it. I know how anxious
these mothers become. When did you send?
What made you? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“‘When?’ Three days ago. ‘What
made me?’ You. ‘Why didn’t I
tell you?’ Because I can’t be sure in
the least that she will come. Mother is the most
individual person. She never does what every one
expects she will. She may not come, and I didn’t
want you to be disappointed.”
“How did I make you?” asked the Angel.
“Loving Alice. It made me realize that
if you cared for your girl like that, with Mr. O’More
and three other children, possibly my mother, with
no one, might like to see me. I know I want to
see her, and you had told me to so often, I just sent
for her. Oh, I do hope she comes! I want
her to see this lovely place.”
“I have been wondering what you thought of Mackinac,”
said Freckles.
“Oh, it is a perfect picture, all of it!
I should like to hang it on the wall, so I could see
it whenever I wanted to; but it isn’t real, of
course; it’s nothing but a picture.”
“These people won’t agree with you,”
smiled Freckles.
