Invited to Stay
Edith shook her head. "I've waited and I've done the best I could, and I've tried to trust."
"No one can solve a problem for another, but, I think, when it's time to act, one knows what to do and the way is clearly opened for one to do it. Don't you feel better for having come here and talked to me?"
"Yes, indeed," said the young woman, gratefully. "So much was right--I'm sure of that. The train had scarcely started before I felt more at peace than I had for years."
"Then, dear, won't you stay with me until you know just what to do?"
Edith looked long and earnestly into the sweet old face. "Do you mean it? It may be a long time."
"I mean it--no matter how long it is."
Quick tears sprang to the brown eyes, and Edith brushed them aside, half ashamed. "It means more trunks," she said, "and your son----"
"Will be delighted to have you with us," Madame concluded.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." Madame was not at all sure, but she told her lie prettily.
"Then," said Edith, with a smile, "I'll stay."