Mrs. Welcome came into the little bedroom very quietly one afternoon about a week later, in her hands a large glass bowl overflowing with roses.

She put it down on the table beside the bed and stood looking wistfully at the small dark head on the pillow.

Elsie felt her there, opened her eyes and smiled as she saw the flowers. A deeper color burned for a moment in her cheeks.

“Poor Harvey,” she said. “Isn’t he a dear, mamma?”

“He always thought the world and all of you,” Mrs. Welcome sighed.

“I always liked him, but I never did love him, you know. I just let him come to see me because he wanted to, and all the girls had company.”

“You might have loved him dearie if—if—”

“If I hadn’t gone away, you mean, but I did go away.” Elsie coughed violently.

“There, there, sweet, don’t.” Her mother helped her to sit up and held her in her arms.

“Harvey comes every day to ask how you are,” said Mrs. Welcome when she was better. “He wants to see you when you feel able.”

Elsie remained silent.

Out in the parlor they could hear Patience moving about, putting things in order, singing as she worked one of the songs she and Elsie used to sing when they were little girls.

“Young Mrs. Boland is some singer,” said Elsie with a flash of her old fun. “Isn’t it nice for our Patey to be so happy?”

“She and I want you to be happy too, and you will when you get well, my precious. You will laugh and sing as you used to.”

“Mamma, I see through you,” said Elsie. “I bet Harvey is here now. He brought these roses himself. He coaxed you to coax me to see him. All right. Shake up my pillows. Get Patey’s pink boudoir cap and put your pink shawl around me and bring him in.”

Her pallor was more marked by the bright cap and shawl and the flame in her cheeks seemed scarlet.

“Hello, Harvey,” she greeted him almost in her old bright voice. “Thank you for the roses. They’re—”

A violent coughing made it impossible for Elsie to finish speaking.

He came and stood beside her and took her hot little outstretched hand.

“You’re so pretty and I’m so glad you let me come in,” he said gently.

“Oh, Harvey, I’m the one that’s glad,” said Elsie, trying to speak brightly. She laid back on the pillow. The effort to talk exhausted her.

Harvey knelt down beside the bed so that his face was almost on a level with hers.

“I don’t want you to get tired, dear,” he said. “I just want you to rest and get well. Rest now!” He put his hand tenderly on her hot forehead.

“How cool your hand feels,” she murmured. “Put it over my eyes. They burn so.”

He obeyed her and they remained quiet for many minutes; through their hearts went many thoughts.

She moved slightly. He understood, removed his hand and waited.

When Elsie opened her eyes she looked directly into his kind eyes filled with grief and love.

“You mustn’t be so sorry for me, Harvey,” she whispered.

“You will be better soon, and then—remember, little dear, I still have the wedding ring.”

Elsie sighed. “Poor old Harvey! There never was anybody so good as you are to me.”

“I love you.”

She patted his cheek. “It’s so good of you to go on caring about me.”

“I couldn’t stop if I wanted to,—and I don’t want to.”

She put her thin arm about his neck. “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything on earth!”

A wan little funny gleam lighted her pretty dark eyes.

“This is on earth, all right. I’ll tell you about it next time you come....” Suddenly Elsie sat up and grasped him. “There will be a next time, won’t there, Harvey?” she asked him in a wild tone, a wave of terror seeming to go over her.

He held her gently.

“Don’t be frightened, dear. Of course there is going to be a next time ... all the rest of our lives. You didn’t think even for a minute that I would go back on you, did you, Elsie?”

She smiled and released herself, then smiled again. “No, no, I didn’t mean that. Take a chair, Harvey, and tell me about the weather.”

Harvey took the chair and once more possessed himself of her hand.

She smiled sweetly.

“Now let me ask you a favor. Let’s name the day, Elsie,” he said. “Promise to marry me,—as soon as you get well.”

“When—I—get—well,” Elsie looked wonderingly at him. She saw his passionate earnestness, his need of hope. Hope! It was fast fainting in her heart. “Yes, Harvey,—when I get well.”

He bent over her and with deep tenderness kissed her.

Violent coughing seized her. It was the worst, the most prolonged Elsie had yet had. One spasm followed another, bringing her mother with remedies.

Harvey moved frantically about; he was the first to suggest the doctor and ran out to bring one. He did not realize, he could not know what had really happened.

When he returned Elsie had fallen asleep and the physician advised them not to waken her, promising to call early in the morning. The faithful Harvey went with him. He had her answer, “when I get well,” she said.

Elsie remained until nearly day-break in a very deep sleep. The fever left her during this long repose. Her sister, who was watching beside her, thought she was better because her forehead grew damp and cool.

With the first early light of morning Elsie opened her eyes.

Patience pushed back the pretty tendrils of her dark hair. “It’s sister watching with you, dear,” she said.

“Where’s mother?” murmured Elsie in a voice so weak that it frightened Patience.

“Mother! mother! Please come!” she called.

“She’s coming,” answered Patience as Mrs. Welcome came hurrying to the bedside.

She understood without a word, lifting Elsie in her arms, the frail little worn body against her heart. Tears streamed down her face; sobs shook her body.

Patience hurried weeping to summon Harry.

“Don’t cry, Mother,” moaned Elsie. “I am so glad I am home with you.”

“Yes, Elsie, yes.”

“I would have come long ago, but I didn’t dare—so many girls never dare go home. Some of their mothers don’t want them, but you—. Mother—”

“Yes my darling, yes!”

“I was afraid, so afraid. I went—and—looked—at the—lake.” She seemed to her mother to wander a bit.

Her breathing became difficult. No more words came. A few quick fluttering breaths—Elsie was gone.