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Updated: June 1, 2025
He nodded carelessly. "Yes I'm with one of the newspapers there." "Oh!" She was glad now that she had come over to Elfie's table. Decidedly this man would be very useful. It is always a good thing to know journalists. It suggested favorable paragraphs and good notices in the papers. She remembered what a philosophical chorus girl once told her: "Rather a good press agent than great talent."
And you with that man he's old enough to be your father a toddling dote, hanging on your apron strings. I don't see how you dare show your face to a decent woman!" It was Elfie's turn now to lose her temper. She rose, flushed with anger. "You don't, eh?" she cried hotly. "But you did once, and I never caught you hanging your head. You say he's old. I know he's old, but he's good to me.
Life went on very quietly with the three who were left. Elfie was the sunshine of the house; her ringing laugh and little snatches of song, as she came in and out, cheered all who heard her. And Clare, fitful and uncertain in her bright moods, could not understand Elfie's unfailing good-humour.
"Tell me what she said," said Rowena, not because she wanted so much to hear Elfie's news but because she loved to hear him talk, and upon no subject could Larry wax so eloquent as upon the foothill country of Alberta.
Oh, do, do ask him if I may have it!" Her mother ran to her, eager to seize the poorest excuse for getting away from me. I followed; I stretched out my hands to seize her. She suddenly turned round on me, a woman transformed. A bright flush was on her face, an eager wonder sparkled in her eyes. Snatching Elfie's coveted object out of the child's hand, she held it up before me.
"But why tell me these things now, Miss Wakeham," said Larry, "when you know it is impossible for me to come?" "You won't come?" "I can't come." "Come along then, father," she said, and with a stiff little bow she left Larry at his desk. Before the car moved off Larry came hurrying out. "Here is Elfie's letter," he said. "Perhaps Mrs. Wakeham would like to see it."
"You almost broke my heart, but this wipes all out; my heart is singing again. That awfully jolly letter of Elfie's this week made me quite homesick for the open and for the breezes of the Alberta foothills."
She knew her Cousin Helen would not make her house a happy or an easy home to live in, for she was a weak, nervously-strung woman, with an irritable temper and an abject fear of her husband, whose will was absolute law. And in the secret depths of Elfie's heart there was a strong disinclination, even though she would not own it to herself, to leave home at present.
But her writing took her mind off the startling news she had heard, and Agatha was equally engrossed in preparing Elfie's trousseau, so that though they were always on the watch for any news in the papers, they did not mention the subject to one another, and it was a distinct shock to Agatha to receive a telegram one morning. 'Captain Hugh Knox alive. Coming home. Break it to his friends.
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