“Yes. Yes, I think I have. Really, Mrs. Morgan, I cannot imagine why you have come—”

“Can’t you? I think you can.” It was said quietly and without rancor or aggression.

Beth floundered, staring at the composed young woman before her and struggling for words. Finally, she said, “I suppose this is about Steve.”

“Yes, in a way. May I impose upon your time?”

Unwillingly, Beth stepped aside to open the door, and thought fleetingly of the dirty dishes in the kitchen and the rug that hadn’t been swept in the parlor.

She wondered how this exquisite young woman would view her home, then with a flush of shame at her own thoughts, squared her shoulders and escorted Virginia Morgan into the parlor. It was clean enough, and the furniture was good quality pieces, heavy and gleaming with layers of beeswax polish that had taken her hours to apply. Lacy cloths draped over chair-backs and tables, and the table lamp with frosted globes and tiny dangling crystal prisms had been Martin’s before they married. It’s nice enough for anyone! she told herself fiercely.

A tiny cloth doll with yarn braids lay upon the settee beneath the window, and Beth picked it up, holding it like a talisman as she gestured for her visitor to be seated.

“Is that your daughter’s doll?” Virginia Morgan asked, and a faint smile touched the corners of her mouth. “My Laura has a favorite. It is worn nearly to pieces now, but she insists upon taking it everywhere with her, so we must keep it washed and clean and pray that it does not fall apart before she grows out of the need to keep it near.”

This revelation suddenly made her seem more human, and Beth reminded herself that this woman, too, was a mother.

“Emily has moments of sheer panic if she cannot find it. Martin and I try to keep track of where she leaves it, for the tears are instant when she realizes it’s gone.”

As Virginia sat down on the settee, light from the window behind her forming a hazy outline, she peeled away her gloves with slightly trembling fingers. Beth realized with a shock that she was nervous.

Why, how silly I’m being! She is every bit as nervous as I am!

More at ease now, she took a seat on a chair nearby. “How can I help you, Mrs. Morgan?”

A smile curved the beautiful mouth, and green eyes gazed at her with frank curiosity. “How gratifying that you are willing to be direct. I don’t really know how to begin, but it has to do with Steve. I know you saved his life.”