This fancy swiftly crossed my mind as I looked at Mrs. Willkit, followed by the thought that possibly a change might be a good thing for her. What were my secondary interests compared with Mrs. Willkit's primary ones? It would certainly leave me at a loss where plain sewing was concerned, but surely I wasn't so selfish as all that? I hastily interrogated the interior of my mind. Yet it is undoubtedly a blow to be confronted with the loss of a helper who has gradually acquired some rudimentary ideas of your necessities and can fashion a garment that needs only a minimum of restoration after its supposed completion.
Events took their course, and in early June when the flitting time for us came round once more, it was with a certain degree of finality that Mrs. Willkit and I parted. She thought they might be gone (with a lingering emphasis on the "might") before our return, though Mr. Willkit hadn't settled anything definitely yet.
"Of course you'll write," I said, "and let me know how it all goes."
"Oh, yes," she replied with becoming readiness, "I expect I'll have a-plenty to tell you about."
