at home. He never cared anything about me. He was just interested in the moths and growing strong."
Mrs. Comstock's arms tightened. With a shaking hand she stroked the bright hair.
"Tell me, honey," she said. "Is he to blame for a single one of these tears?"
"Not one!" sobbed Elnora. "Oh, mother, I won't forgive you if you don't believe that. Not one! He never said, or looked, or did anything all the world might not have known. He likes me very much as a friend. He hated to go dreadfully!"
"Elnora!" the mother's head bent until the white hair mingled with the brown. "Elnora, why didn't you tell me at first?"
Elnora caught her breath in a sharp snatch. "I know I should!" she sobbed. "I will bear any punishment for not, but I didn't feel as if I possibly could. I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" the shaking hand was on the hair again.
"Afraid you wouldn't let him come!" panted Elnora. "And, oh, mother, I wanted him so!"
