"
Dwight hazarded that Nin probably had to get back, and shone pleasantly
in the reflected importance of a brother filled with affairs.
"I don't know what to make of Lulu's letters," Ina proceeded. "They're
so--so--"
"You haven't had but two, have you?"
"That's all--well, of course it's only been a month. But both letters
have been so--"
Ina was never really articulate. Whatever corner of her brain had the
blood in it at the moment seemed to be operative, and she let the matter
go at that.
"I don't think it's fair to mamma--going off that way. Leaving her own
mother. Why, she may never see mamma again--" Ina's breath caught. Into
her face came something of the lovely tenderness with which she
sometimes looked at Monona and Di. She sprang up. She had forgotten to
put some supper to warm for mamma. The lovely light was still in her
face as she bustled about against the time of mamma's recovery from her
tantrim. Dwight's face was like this when he spoke of his foster-mother.
In both these beings there was something which functioned as pure love.
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