Domestic fiction; Girls -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
"Well, if I’ve to send the invitation myself, one is going to Mr.
Symington."
Elma had not passed her dreaming hours in vain.
Besides, Miss Grace had got over the difficult part of meeting Elma
again, and was right back in her old part of counsellor, evidently
without a quiver of the pain that divided them. Yet, they both felt the
barrier that was there, the barrier of that presence of Miss Annie which
had always entered first into their conversations, and now could not be
mentioned.
Elma thought of the visits that Miss Grace would have to make to her.
She saw that Miss Grace had been warned not to agitate her. This was
enough to enable her to take the matter entirely in her own hands with
no agitation at all.
"I think you know, Miss Grace, that when one has been so near dying as
I’ve been, and not minded--I mean I had no knowledge that I was so ill,
and even didn’t care much--since it was myself, you know, except for the
trouble it gave to people----"
Elma was becoming a little long-winded.
"I want to tell you that you must always tell me about Miss Annie, not
mind just because they say I’m not to be agitated, or anything of that
sort. I won’t be a bit agitated if you tell me about Miss Annie."
"My dear love," Miss Grace stopped abruptly.
"Dr. Merryweather said----" and she stopped again.
"Yes, Dr. Merryweather said the same to me, he said that on no account
was I to speak to you of Miss Annie. Dr. Merryweather simply knows
nothing about you and me."
Miss Grace shook her head drearily.
"You are a bad little invalid," said she.
But it broke the ice a little bit, and one day afterwards Miss Grace
told her more than she could bear herself. Dr. Merryweather was right,
Miss Grace broke down over the last loving message to Elma. She had a
little pearl necklace for Elma to wear, and fastened it on without a
word.
Then came Mrs. Leighton looking anxious.
"See, mummy, Miss Grace has given me a beautiful little necklace from
Miss Annie."
All trace of Elma’s childish nervousness had departed with her fever.
She had looked right into other worlds, and it had made an easier thing
of this one. Besides, Miss Grace must not be allowed to cry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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