eldest, was the mother of the family, as well as the second mother of
Bob.

"Where is he?" were Mary's first words--and Deb smiled inwardly to see
her as absurd in her mother's vanity and preoccupation as Rose herself.
But this was a case of a widow's only son, and the visitor was thankful
for such a beginning to the interview. "Where is he?" cried the anxious
voice. "He was to have met you. And he never fails--this is not like
him--"

"Oh," Deb struck in easily, "he was there all right, looking after his
old aunt like a good boy. He wanted to bring me, but I told him he
could be more useful looking after Rosalie and my things. I thought
we'd rather be by ourselves, Molly--poor old girl! You know I never
heard a word until he told me just now. Your letter did not reach me."

They kissed again, in the passage of the little house.

"You will send away the carriage, Debbie?" Mary urged, without
visible emotion. "There are stables in the next street. You will take
off your hat and stay with me a little?"

"Indeed I will, dearest, if you will have me. Are you alone?"

"Quite alone."

"Where's the old lady?"

"Oh, dead--dead long ago."