"they would be good," the screams that rent the air at the precise
moment of farewell rather giving the lie to his hopes.

Letty was struggling to end the interview without breaking down, for
she was worn out nervously as well as physically, and thought if she
could only be alone with her problems and her cares she would rather
write to David than tell him her mind face to face.

Brother and sister held each other tightly for a moment, kissed each
other good-bye, and then Letty watched Osh Popham's sleigh slipping
off with David into the snowy distance, the merry tinkle of the bells
adding to the sadness in her dreary heart. Dick gone yesterday, Dave
to-day; Beulah without Dick and Dave! The two joys of her life were
missing and in their places two unknown babies whose digestive systems
were going to need constant watching, according to Dr. Lee. Then she
went about with set lips, doing the last sordid things that death
brings in its wake; doing them as she had seen her mother do before
her. She threw away the husks in Eva's under mattress and put fresh
ones in; she emptied the feathers from the feather bed and pillows and
aired them in the sun while she washed the ticking; she scrubbed the
paint in the sick-room, and in between her tasks learned from Clarissa
Perry the whole process of bringing up babies by hand.

That was three years ago. At first David had sent ten dollars a month
from his slender earnings, never omitting it save for urgent reasons.
He evidently thought of the twins as "company" for his sister and
their care a pleasant occupation, since she had "almost" a living
income; taking in a few coats to make, just to add an occasional
luxury to the bare necessities of life provided by her mother's will.