Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/270

260 woman what he had one day been to her mother. How simply, how serenely, she accepted that which had been so painfully won.

"Let's call each other by our first names," lightly Helen suggested.

"Oh, I wonder if I ever could! Your name is so—so special. Mrs. Morrison is like the word 'America' to me. It means things. I couldn't possibly call America anything else."

"You could call it home, couldn't you?" said Helen.

, placing her hand over Laurel's, and Laurel turning hers palm upwards, and interlacing her fingers with Helen's in impulsive response, Helen said, "There's more to my story, Laurel."

With infinite gentleness she explained to Laurel that she was a part of this home now—was a member of this family; they were hers and she was theirs. She must have been talking five minutes before Laurel caught the import of her words.

"You mean," suddenly she interrupted, "I'm to live here?"

"Yes, here, and at the place at Green Hills. With us—with your father, with Con and Dane and Rick—they're so happy about it—wherever we are—as one of us, Laurel."

"I never thought of that." Laurel gazed wonderingly around the lovely room. This her home? This beautiful place? A family like other girls? A mother and father who lived together? Mrs. Morrison? "Yes, yes," she gasped, "but what about—what about—"